There is something disgusting and distasteful in those waxing poetic and nostalgic over a past lover who’s not always an anonymous stranger to others.
There is something unsettling when hidden details & word for word intimate moments are vomited out onto the masses
One betrays the trust of another in poems claiming to pledge eternal adoration
when Twitter and Blogs become a peep show into a private world once reserved for two
There is something putrid and nauseating about knowing all the naked poses and naked whispers and naked promises talked of, texted, salivated over in a relationship long since passed
A heavenly river turned toxic filth when gushed from the tongue of only one, not the other
It is confounding and contemptible to see a past lover’s words being whored out for public consumption
What is the purpose in exposing to strangers what should always be held sacred?
I see no reason to rehash a diary of private moments dead and buried other than to evoke envy or pain or to progress a selfish, desperate agenda
It seems to be nothing more than petty games played by a petty heart
Graceless, classless, and crass with zero respect for another’s moving on
Why would anyone knowingly defile beautiful whispers shared about someone they claim to still love?
I suppose only the sad souls doing it can ever answer those questions
I do know, without doubt, I will never lower myself to swim in that cesspool of sirens
They represent the worst in all women
On every level they desecrate the poetry of love