Perilous Waters of Pain

It is pointless for I to love thee,
for you could never have feelings
for the person that I am. Never
could you look to me and think
how you wished to experience
a dinner, with I sitting across
the table for two from where
you are seated.

Never do I enter your dreams
as you lie comfortably
in bed, beside a man who,
in comparison to me, has none
of my many features, because
inside and out, we are not
the same, and never will I hold
anything of interest to your
heart and happiness.

Because of this, I will cry myself
to sleep this night I am without you,
and every night that is to come,
until time itself no longer ticks,
for although the realist in me
knows how pointless my pain
surely is, and how it shall go
unnoticed forevermore,
the romantic in me still holds
onto the belief that a destiny
together awaits us on the
other side of tomorrow.

So let it be writ that I can wait no
longer for my wanted paramour
to fall into these arms of mine,
and although the dark clouds
of a mighty depression are
brewing beyond my window,
with the torrential rain of
painted death preparing
to serenade my soul, I will
not allow the plan I had once
considered to become the
fate that shall greet me next
morning.

Once there was an unhappy
time when I would have
contemplated shoving a blade
through my jugular and
expelling the water from within;
such would have been excruciating,
but afterwards, all I would have felt
is shock before falling into a deep,
dark coma, from which I would
never awake nor see daylight
again.

I live by myself, and I realise,
that no one would have
found my body, until I was
nothing more than a fleshy
heap of compost gathering
flies upon the surface of what
was once clean carpet.

But I know that this fate would
never lead to the woman that I
love the most, and although you
may not love me tomorrow,
nor any day that comes
thereafter, I will love thee until
I find another amazing woman
who steals my heart away, who
I hope will not already have
her love belonging to another.
Until that day does arrive, I will
love you, and that for me is
good enough at this very moment.

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About totalovrdose

I am an online journalist, video game reviewer, mental health advocate and post graduate university student. I am a massive video gaming geek; a lover of intellectual conversations; an award winning procrastinator; a devilishly charming nuisance and the definition of 'fun' (sometimes). My blog is filled with many a soporific love poem, and is simply the beginning in my quest to become a published author. Please stop by and say 'Hi!' (that rhymes!) :D

Posted on October 1, 2013, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. This is so sad….and so beautiful….but so very sad. I pray that you find someone that is worthy of you…because you are worthy! Do not believe otherwise.

    Amazing post, as always.

  2. Shakespeare meets Edgar Allan Poe. Dear sweet boy, you have the hottest furnace of passion glowing within you. You are young and love still has that new car smell to it for you. Yet, bless my old broken heart, you can set the world ablaze with your words, kiddo.

    • ‘Shakespeare meets Edgar Allan Poe’; ‘hottest furnace of passion’; ‘love has that new car smell’; ‘set the world ablaze with your words’; these are some unbelievably powerful images Ma’am. I appreciate you assigning such amazing terms to my writing.
      Thank you again for taking the time to read and comment; I am truly thankful for the high level of praise that you have given me.

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