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23 february 2012

poetry

Rhiannon
Rhiannon

Lovesick


I realized I was sick of crying
But the only way to stop would be dying
Because even though you’re mine now
I feel it’s time to take a bow
It seems I miss you more
When you’re mine to adore
I hate how I love you so
And how easy it is for you to go
I hate how now you’re here
But you don’t seem to love me, my dear.
So I’m still up late sad
And you’re off somewhere being glad
Glad I’m far away
And you don’t see me everyday
Glad it’s easy for you to ignore
How you make my heart sore.
And sometimes I hate you
But I know that isn’t true
Because you have my heart
And you have from the start
I wonder if you’ll ever give it back
Or if it’s lost in the black
I feel so empty sometimes
When I sit and write you rhymes
That I know you’ll never read
Sometimes I think I need
To tell you how I feel
As if you aren’t quite real
Like writing dear diary
As if it’ll make you see
That I miss you everyday
And love you in every way.

Joe Breunig
23 february 2012 at 17:06

A lovely piece and one to which I can easily relate; unfortunately, I too am initimate with that kind of pain; it's disappointing to experience how poorly people can treat those they claim to love; and remember, there's no excuse for abuse. --Joe

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Rhiannon
23 february 2012 at 19:44

I'm glad in a way that you can connect with it, but I'm not glad you can relate. It's not a pain I would want someone else to feel.

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