Southern Cross

You go home to her
and I head to the pub
for a bowl of discounted spaghetti.
I got carried away, predictably.
You’re still not there yet
And it kills me.
You’re a sweetheart
and a Heartbreak.
A poem fuelled by pasta and crab meat
is a heart and carb heavy way to admit defeat
Just fill that void with unrefined wheat
I’m guessing I’ll be waiting around to see
this outcome, between you and me.