Plea of a Withered Heart
I gave you my heart, and your presence felt like bliss. A joy I never felt before - a gift amidst the storm. I saw you as a rose, blooming in the parched desert.
My touch was once peace, now it’s the plague.
My tongue once uttered sweet, now my words bring me to my knees in defeat.
I gave you my heart, but now it feels so lost.
I give you my all, but in stress I am the entire source of your disgust.
Did I make see a unicorn, parched in the delusion of my despair? Did I hallucinate something that isn’t really there?
When things are pleasant, it is only because of external distraction; but when things are awry, it is due to my failures, my flaws, and my lack of traction.
When rest is not your friend, I become the evil that breathed all earthly sin.
I once danced as a leaf to the rhythm of your warm whistling breeze, now I hold my heart in my cupped hands to warm it through another cold night.
Your eyes feel like daggers, my presence feels like burdening weight, my existence feels like sin, love is in impossible destination in a shifting maze.
I feel lost in sea, drowning in the idea of my own tears.