The Drop

There is an unholy Trinity
in the things that slip away,

A horror twisting within that void of estrangement and asphixiating my axis mundi like three inseparable ouroboros serpents:

"What have I done! Could I have changed such fate?" Squeals Guilt.

"Why couldn't you hold on? Was I not worth the effort?" Hisses Blame.

"What cruel forces pulled us apart? Can this existence be more cruel?" Yells Bitterness.

Between my weakness and the omnipotence of this dividing chemo-physics, all I can muster is the simmering numb buzz mantra:

"I hate having loved you!"