born of a desperate state, this poem was written as a sort of catharsis... to purge the excess of emotion... it comes across as pretty cliched and hackneyed, but I am still posting it here. the couplet form at least brings in a little bit of distance, (I hope...)
agony of desire
broken heart, aflame, afire
writhes as in a seizure.
pent, unspent, it wastes away
consuming itself day after day
what will remain of this shrivelled heart?
withering, drying up, torn apart?
its grief it brought upon itself
past misdeeds don't repair themselves
passion and folly have ruined woman before this
this heart is damned, do not pity it
riddled with shame, overwhelmed by pain
it cannot accept what society ordains
it's a cancerous wound, it cannot move on
trapped in its own net, this heart is too far gone
reverberating silence blasts the heart's deep core
stifled, suppressed, lonely, heavy and sore
a tale so common and overused
still as true for me as it is for you.