I thought I loved you
Thought the sun shone out your bum
But underneath it all
You were nothing but a lush.
It was the bottles I found
Stashed behind the bedhead
That gave me reason
To question your sobriety.
You lulled me with promises of starlight nights
Of exotic ports and places
Where dreams would be fulfilled
Every desire met and realised.
And me in rose coloured glasses
Blind to the reality around me
Plunged hopelessly, completely in love
With what turned out to be a surface apparition.
Your drunken advances, simplicity of character
When I searched for your soul
Found nothing but beige, featureless prattle
That sounded a lot meaning nothing.
Finally your superficiality
Born out in trinkets and cheap bling
To impress me of your worldliness
Was as artificial as your very soul.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/10/11/writing-prompt-128-collage-8%E2%80%B3/
Morpethroad 
The shattering of illusions, one of the most devastating aspects of youth really. We are so vulnerable when falling in love. Well-expressed!
Thanks so much Yves. Yes I agree, what we see isn’t always what is actually there.
how naive we could be when we’re in love. good thing it wasn’t too late for him. Well-penned, Michael 🙂
Thanks Ladylee, appreciate your comment.
The shattering of illusions, as Yves says, is shattering. This speaks to it well.
Thank you Debi, appreciate you stopping by.
I’ve fallen for more than one who seemed to be such a thing of beauty on the outside, but on the inside was not just beige, but a sucking black hole of emotional devastation.
I’m not talking about physical appearance when I say “thing of beauty.” I mean someone who seems so incredibly charismatic, amazing personality, but really it’s all for show. There was one that I made the mistake of going back to some 24 years after he broke my heart the first time, thinking that this time maybe he had become what I believed he had the potential to be.
The outcome was the same as it was the first time. I suppose I really shouldn’t have been surprise to end up with my heart undone yet again. As they say, a leopard doesn’t change its spots.
peppersfetch dot blogspot dot com
Yes leopards don’t change their spots we learn harsh lessons at times. Thanks so much for stopping by, I hope you are doing well today.
Oh my my my–yes, “shattering of illusions”, I agree–I can hear the tinkling-crash…
Thank you J, I think its a loud crash than an tinkling….lol
Indeed–I was picturing/hearing the movie effect where subtlety actually enlarges the impact of the scene, thus “tinkling crash”.
Wow ..what a devastating portrait – and yet in another form and different ivces I’ve seen that face portrayed … and how sad it was when the mask finally fell.
This has such a melancholic and somehow lyrical feeling to it – as I read the piece over and over again – the sadness yet acceptance of what was … has passed …. speaks so powerfully for the soul search so many are trying to find.
Well penned Michael 🙂
Beige is the key work here for me. I often said Toronto, (where I lived 13 years) used to be beige 30+ years ago but now it has vibrant colours due to the multicultures but alone…without this richness…beige it is.
Thanks Oliana, I think there were a lot of places in our youth that were mainly beige….have a great weekend…