My Love
Hope, dreams, light, reason, joy, peace, feeling, love…all devoid.
My love is lost, lost because I make it so. I can't allow it to exist
I can't allow it to bloom or flourish; I must choke its weeds….for it can never be. It must lie back in this torture and die, die before I, for I die with it.
I must obstruct its view and feeling I must disclaim it,
no matter how much it makes it writhe in pain.
For my love must be pointless, it must be senseless, meaningless,
worthless, futile, in vain… wasted.. withered.. it will be come starved, ravenous, hungry… and so will I without your love to restore me. That's how it has to be…
I am not for you, you need not me for I am not matronly. Nor can I become so.
So I must let it be, it can't be me that receives this love.. this joy.. this embrace..
this life.. this warmth.. affection.. kindness.. care… compassion…no……
It's not for me it can never be again…..
No matter how many tears I cry, no matter how many times it causes me to die…. I can never let it make a difference… I die with the love that I slaughter,
I die everyday. But I must try to remain strong, for others who need me..
This pain, though, won't let me… Its agony, grief, and anguish make it mar me,
It immobilizes me until I can no longer move… every time I see your face,
I die a thousand unseen deaths; I endure a million concealed tortures,
I live as an unnoticed corpse to the world and staggers among they who walk it…
Humanity knows me not; the façade I play them is only to mask the pain…
It masks the inner struggle over life and death.. I may well die with my love,
I try to fight it, I try to survive… my love hinders me it causes me to upset all solidity that I have consumed… It causes me to not feel famished of the fare that I reject…
So I grow thin, I can eat not nor do I want to…
I know I have to live nonetheless… if any thing for you my one and only love..
The one and only love that I by no means can possess… I must be strong for you.
I don't wish to break your heart as much as this does mine.
Though you must search for some other, I know your heart can not leave mine…
If I were to die… your life would follow mine, in the best circumstance yours would fall into a fit of despair and rage against its self for the death of me…
You would cry and pound your heart that escaped you just mine had until you could feel it no longer… unacceptable. I can not cause you such pain, my love.
To harm you would cause the same pain to me one hundred fold.
You can not be harmed you have someone who needs you who depends on you,
Someone fashioned from your blood… yours and one other's.
Even if this blood is not mine, it doesn't mean I care for it any less…
At this point in its life, this purity needs a figure of light… a mother…
and a mother I am neigh.
So what then? I can not fight this death for long, it is inevitable..
I can no longer move because of it… I lay in my chamber thin and famished,
I am pale and cold… my limbs have numbed and I can not hear, I can't even hear the sounds of the birds I see through the window next to me… my fingers feel no breeze from that same frame, even as it rustles the sheets that lay over me…
I am dying I can't fight it any longer… this cold that takes over me is piercing and deep… I can not rise from its strangling grasp… how could life be so cruel, to give me something so consuming and beautiful as love, only to have it rip the very heart I loved with right out of me… and all by the same means, love…
How do I fight something that had already conquered me from the start?
It creped in, disguising its brutality as a heavenly notion… and I trusted it,
I trusted it for what it said it was, I knew not of what it could become…
Of what it could cause…
It planted its roots in me, while I allowed it in eagerly.. while I wanted it in…
It nailed its self to my bones, it absorbed into my skin, it became what beat my blood, it took hold of me in any fashion it could… it became what kept me; what kept my heart beating, what kept my lungs breathing, what left my mind dreaming,
what made my heart sing, what made my life mean so much more than just what it had previously seemed…
So to have to rip out all those things would be the death of me…
Thus the only way to escape from this thing, is to make another me…
To make a new consciousness would be to make a being that would be free of this leech's hold… it would have been born before this masochist took over my heart,
So it would be free of this pain, it would be released from these chains.
It would not know love like its former occupant had, so it would not die…
It would continue to fight, like I was supposed to…
Before I became captured and at the mercy of love…
But how long 'till love finds its way into his heart?