Trying to Forget

You’re coming to town, I heard in the news
You mention her name, it gives me troubling blues
I’ve been that girl, and I’ve fell in her shoes
I forget why I care or how I still hate you
They don’t think I’ve moved on and it’s probably true

But I don’t want you back, I’m the one who left
And the only one who apparently felt
It makes no difference now how many women you get
I was number one and your best asset
I spend all of my time just trying to forget

© Delia Ross. 2019

Transfer Request Pending

I’ve never had anyone look at me the way they look at her
Although I am fully grown I must be an amateur
I wonder when they look at me I appear to be a blur
Similar to a black hole, is there nothing to observe?
Many times I have been told I’m just not what they prefer
But why do they always get to decide what is that I deserve?
I applied to move to Mars, I hope they put in my transfer…

© Delia Ross. 2019

RSVP Declined

Why send an invitation if it’ll just be declined
I want to be seen but I stand with the blind
Every rejection makes me more aligned
I still look confused though I’ve made up my mind
You warned you were bad but you are the worst kind

Oh teacher, oh teacher why’d you leave me blue
Another desertion what more can I do
We barely had started but now we are through
I may have been late but I can’t outrun you
Give me the full movie not just the preview

© Delia Ross. 2019


My depression is working overtime and charging me extra. Can’t bribe him with a day off no matter the weather. Told him to get moving but he dropped the anchor. This lake is filled with tears and I ain’t getting better. I put it in a memorandum and even wrote it in a letter. He just laughed at me, shouted, and gave the middle finger. The only way I can quiet him is with some liquor. He follows me every year but here’s the kicker.
He mirrors me and worries me and is in every picture. The funny thing, the longer he dreams, the less I remember.

© Delia Ross. 2019

Ten After Sunset

Pain after sunset
denial and regret
It’s now ten after sunset
you haven’t admitted anything yet

Blame during sunrise
But never a tear in your eye
Aim for shock and surprise
It’s so much better when they cry

Shame morning and afternoon
You’ll catch him singing the same ole tune
Same lying up under the moon
He wasn’t born with a silver spoon

© Delia Ross. 2019

Won’t Bring Him Back (Lyrics)

In these pages he’s alive
In these words we do survive
In these moments nothing but time
Memories without a hard drive
We get by, we drive, we fly

No suffering when amongst a friend
But these words won’t bring him back again
No these words won’t bring him back again

The days on pages never end
The nights play out as you intend
He’ll heed the call when you contend

But these words won’t bring him back again
Said these words won’t bring him back
No these words won’t bring me back

© Delia Ross. 2019

Kintsugi for the Soul

There’s always been something about you,
that when I look at you,
my soul just glitters;
Gold energy that seals my wounds
and puts me on display,
at shops in LA
Kintsugi for the soul
A broken soul with golden tear trails
It must look like a lightning bug
on a warm Summer’s day
Every now and then
you’ll catch a glimpse of my soul lighting up
much like when you smile at me
and I blossom like a butter cup
In those moments, life exist
I am not dead just yet

© Delia Ross. 2019

My Son Part 1: The Promise

WARNING: The following story contains explicit gore, imagery, & death. It is intended for an older audience. Though it is not age restricted, caution should be taken when reading, as it may cause triggers in some due to the sensitive context and subject matter. Proceed with caution.

My Son Part 1: The Promise

“The bloody note,
that his lost wife wrote,
He found under his pillow,
when in the afternoon he awoke.
His heart grew weak as he read her final thoughts,
her last words about the son she lost,
and the promise that she broke.
But it sends him right,
back to that lovely night,
when they felt each other’s love,
and gave each other light.
But he tears up when he remembers the deed,
the love he felt then, seems now like greed.
Her promise he would recite.
‘Our life together, darling, has just begun,
And I would be honored if you had our son.’
He was her man and she was his lady,
and so he asked her to have his baby.
Neither hesitated.
She lay on the floor,
as the blood poured,
she felt the one inside,
would live no more.
And she was crying for help and she called everyone.
Thinking that someone could save her son.”
The promise lay on the ground torn.
The shame she had,
when he took her hand,
in the hospital room,
but he made no demand.

And when he first entered, she wouldn’t even lock,
her eyes with his, she just turned toward the wall.
Thinking the promise, she would damn.
But she looked in time,
with her tearing eyes,
she wanted to see him,
the one she was denied.
And when she did, her world was shattered,
And put in submission.
It was black and bloody and in the fetal position.
Her promise was a lie.
‘Our life, my darling, had just begun.
I only need my girl and I don’t need a son.’
He said this, but he could not hide his pain,
He knew that their love would never be the same.
Neither reiterated.
And alas one evening,
while he was dreaming,
she’d lay in the tub,
her wrists slashed and bleeding.
And when he saw the result his heart receded,
it tore apart when her wrists stopped bleeding.
The promise she was relieving.
And after the police went,
And after the trial,
After the search of his house,
And long after denial,
That’s when he found her letter of regret.
Buried under his pillow so he couldn’t neglect.
But then arose a devious smile.
‘Our life, my darling, has just begun.
All I have to do is save some of your blood.’
He knew a man who could restore her life
half of this woman would still be half of his wife.
Shockingly, he never hesitated.”

© Delia Ross. 2010

Stay tuned for Part 2: The Note Beneath His Pillow & Part 3: Half of Her Life

Picture of a Picture

PICTURE OF A PICTURE by @poeeternal

I have a picture of a picture
It was clear I wasn’t stricter
I have a picture of her picture
He’d still be here if I were richer
It won’t be long & he will ditch her
She’ll have a picture of his picture
Bury her head deep into the scripture
Dreams will cease she’ll be a wisher
With just a picture of their picture
He’s nothing but an old gold digger
I’ve got my finger on the trigger
A heavy hitter he’s a sinner
You better burn his fucking picture
I can hear his fanbase snicker
While they drown away in liquor
And wish they owned these fucking pictures
Maybe I’ll post them all on Twitter
It’s something maybe I’ll consider
When I’m feeling a bit less bitter

© Delia Ross. 2019

Seconds to Love

He is not the bird in a cage
He is not the burn, or the flame

He is not the bird falling from the sky
He has not the look of abandonment in his eye

He is not doubt, he is not the plague
He is not boredom nor is he rage

There is a stillness in his frame
There is melody in his name

There are not faults to rectify
Music is his only alibi

There are no moments to be void of
He will only take you ten seconds to love

There are no reasons to recon with
I always thought love was just a myth

© Delia Ross. 2019