La Douleur Exquise
La Douleur Exquise: (French) The heart wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have
Was there ever a more perfect human being than the gorgeous Alexia,
who is the single most beautiful young woman in all of Australia.
Her evocative appearance is something saucy out from a dazzling wet dream,
her smooth, silky, rich skin, milky in appearance is as delectable as whipped cream,
her deliciously red, kissable lips are so marvellously unattainable
and one could become lost in her ravishing brown eyes which are just so delectable
to behold. Her dark hair, like a body of water, gently moves whenever the wind blows
and her body, shaped like an hour glass, could inspire an infinite amount of prose.
Her intelligence is beyond impressive and her personality is fabulous
and that riveting accent of hers is so sexy and so unfathomably gorgeous.
There is another special something about Alexia, I guess you could say it’s her aurora,
a powerful energy which inevitably makes her so unbelievably popular,
and like so many people before me, I have been drawn towards her too,
my reason being because ‘Alexia, I am deeply in love with you,’
and to have but one opportunity to confess these feelings, I’ll collapse to the floor, pray to God and ask him ‘please,
may you grant me a minute of Alexia’s time so I might admit to her my feelings of La Douleur Exquise.’
Inside her eyes rolls an endless ocean of great darkness, which is as resilient as the embers of a burning flame.
I can see it powerfully glowing behind her mask of happiness because like her, inside my heart I feel the same.
I understand she doesn’t want anyone to know her secret, and for its discovery I take the blame,
however, my darkness would come to an end the moment she acknowledges my existence and says my name
in that uniquely untraceable, riveting accent of hers; in her sumptuously high pitched voice.
Out of all the women in the world, Alexia is the one I give my heart to, she is my heart’s choice
and I wonder, if she can save me from my eternal darkness, could I perhaps be her cure?
My heart may be a twisted and depraved vessel, but my intentions are entirely pure.
For if she be broken, even a little, maybe Alexia can understand the pain in my heart,
for if it exists in hers, maybe she can put me back together rather than further tear me apart,
and perhaps I too can do the same for her and we can become symbiotically joined as one
and together we can brave the unrelenting darkness and never again shall we come undone,
for I want to see Alexia for who she is, from her impeccable strengths to her fatal flaws,
because I long to be her heart’s hero, just as I can no longer wait ‘to be entirely yours,’
and with these few words said to Alexia’s face, suddenly the truth she shall be shown,
that being she is the single most amazing young woman my loving heart has ever known.
However, soon Alexia will have to leave and return to the country where she originally did reside
for if somebody said Alexia was completely Australian, then I’m afraid someone heinously lied.
The opportunity to confess my feelings is all but slowly being depleted
and soon there’ll be no time left in the world for my heart to be successfully treated,
for then a great travesty of a depression will inevitably befall me heart and whole;
Alexia has become a part of my bloodstream; a part of my spirit; a part of my soul.
What I wouldn’t give for Alexia to see me, for her to come up to me and say
‘young man, I have seen you staring endlessly at my person almost every single day,
and I would very much like to know, is there something you want me to do; is there anything you want from me?’
‘if you do not know by now what it is that I want, I am certain you never will’ I would reply sadly.
From the moment I first saw Alexia, I have constantly without end thought, dreamed and fantasised of no one else,
and if she still be left unaware, then obviously she is not destined to be my partner, my lover, my spouse.
I have tried not thinking about her, but the horribly difficult task is almost unimaginable
and it is unfortunate I cannot move on either because my heart has become uninhabitable
to any other woman but her. I’m in love with a woman who could never love me and for this I ask to be put to death
because what is the point of being alive if every thought of mine is consumed by Alexia, from now until my dying breath.
Due to these romantic feelings, I fear there must be something terribly wrong with me for I am concerned for my heart’s health,
and I just know that I can’t let Alexia find out because if she did, she would hate me almost as much as I hate myself,
for no woman would ever wish to discover she is a pathetically weak, little man’s muse
and no matter how hard I try to keep my strong feelings in check I know I am destined to lose,
because I have already tried everything; remedies, potions and prayer
to stop the beautiful woman of my dreams from becoming my nightmare.
During these dreams I play a broken, weeping man who collapses to his knees
upon realising his only company during his death is La Douleur Exquise.
I’d rather these dreadful dreams of mine remain fictitious, for I would not survive if they were real.
The painful truth is they already are, for Alexia could never understand how I feel.
For I am a horrid monster; hideous and hated by all. Unwanted, unloved, emotionally crippled to the core,
and if Alexia even managed to look at me on but one occasion, I am certain she could look again no more
for one look at my physical appearance would without a doubt fill her with an unrelenting dread,
and if she had a Djinn I am almost certain that at least one wish would be reserved to have me dead.
If this be true, as pathetic as it may sound, my feelings for her will continue to have an indefinite longevity,
because ‘I will always love you more than anything Alexia, even life itself, and I am forever yours my lady.’
Posted on May 15, 2013, in Poetry and tagged accents, Alexia, Australia, beautiful woman, beauty, commitment, darkness, depression, dreams, French, hearts, La Douleur Exquise, language, life, love, love poem, love poetry, poem, poetry, relationships, romance, speech, words, writing. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.