Marianne

Marianne.

Where are you, Marianne? stealing my heart
tramping it in the mud, yet still, I asked for more
Marianne fell in love again. I saw her kiss
another man, the green monster of jealousy
tore my mind asunder.
In the forest of darkness, I lost my way.
“Let her go,” a friend said she is not for you alone.”
I had planned, next time I met her to say
“I hand my love back to you to keep” the idea
was for her to cry.
It didn’t work out that way when I met her
with her new friend, I asked her to return the key
to my flat; leaving the pair, I said, in sudden
anger: “fuck off Marianne.”