There have been enough poems written about love.
And plenty more written about heartbreak.
I have indulged in the composition of both,
Roped into a reckless dance with the whipping wind
and the insanity of the heart's desires.
While engulfed in my emotional fires,
I have never felt so cold as I do now.
Poems about love, poems about heartbreak,
I drink them in and regurgitate the meaningless words.
Beauty: colorful, soft, bright, airy, ephemeral, blissful.
Batting of the eyelashes, scintilliance of the mind.
Pain: sharp, dark, throbbing, unforgiving and relentless.
Collapsing of the lungs, aching of the soul.
These are the empty images, sensory details that crowd
the screen and saturate the dreamy, inspired writer.
Those that love the hardest
Shatter in the most violent manner.
I am sick of a community
Founded on toxic vulnerability.