Unrequited
It was February, a leap year.
I was heart sore.
Garnering strength
in the lengthening of days.
Before this, I spent the autumn
holed up in my old room
watching woodpigeons court
like kings and queens,
listening to him laugh
through paper walls.
And when at last winter came,
heart and bone
numbed like earth,
I took hold of myself and
pulled him out at the root.
Now nothing grows
Alexandra O’Toole‘s poetry has appeared in various magazines online and in print. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Lancaster University and her first novel is currently being considered by agents. Find her at @otoolealexandra on Twitter.