The Wedding Ring

I've thrown so much
sentimental garbage
into the woods, bad karma,
metal plates, ripped
from trees, iron pigs
with wings, (yes, they do fly)
piano parts, broken keys,
and things.
wedding invitations
Never used,
A wedding prayer
In glass. A wedding ring.
cards and trinkets,
shreds of sentimental,
sappy debris.
birthday cards to him,
not me.
tickets, notes.
it's an exorcism of sorts.
getting rid of all
that wasn't true, all
that wasn't anything
I wanted to keep.
That brief imaginary life
was a sick
And devastating joke.
The punch line
Being me.

I feel
bad for the woods though,
those lonesome trees,
having to cradle all that
junk, rusting
And disappearing,
but Forever gone from
my eyes, as all false things
Should be.