They told me to write again
I said I cannot
The pain would be to great
It is only an account of suffering
They told me to write different
Write about something pleasant
They love a cheesy romance
Happy ending and all
I cannot write of joy
Suffering consumes my heart
Pain flows through my veins
And stains paper with true romance
Like Pip and Estelle
I love a black heart
I am never to be rewarded
With the love of my love
Like Jay and Daisy
My love chose another
My heart ripped from my chest
I am left for dead
True love knows little joy
Happiness is brief
Suffering is great
Pain is indefinite
Because true love is to suffer
On another’s account
To love despite suffering
To love no matter what
Star-crossed lovers have little hope
But I will continue to write
Only of our suffering love
My muse is not lost
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
They told me to write again
I said I cannot
The pain would be to great
It is only an account of suffering
They told me to write different
Write about something pleasant
They love a cheesy romance
Happy ending and all
I cannot write of joy
Suffering consumes my heart
Pain flows through my veins
And stains paper with true romance
Like Pip and Estelle
I love a black heart
I am never to be rewarded
With the love of my love
Like Jay and Daisy
My love chose another
My heart ripped from my chest
I am left for dead
True love knows little joy
Happiness is brief
Suffering is great
Pain is indefinite
Because true love is to suffer
On another’s account
To love despite suffering
To love no matter what
Star-crossed lovers have little hope
But I will continue to write
Only of our suffering love
My muse is not lost
I was asked why I do not write anymore and my answer was a simple shrug. But the true answer is very complicated because I lost the one I love. So after 2 years since I wrote of you, and after 1 year, 257 days since the day you got engaged and ripped my heart from my chest, I sat down and the words flowed out. And I imagine that is because just because I suppress my feelings for you doesn't mean they aren't still very very real.
Request permission to use this poem