Love's Death

Not a love poem. A poem of love and death.

He loved me in a thousand ways
my heart my mind my body
but the streams of men he had before took its toll
upon my soul and pressed down on my existence
like a crushing pressure at the bottom of a deep dark sea.

I never knew when or from where.
Its hideous and insistent path to me was long and arduous
full of chance meetings in bars and parking lots
from the relentless pursuit of acceptance through his flesh.

He took them all; accepted everyone, rejected no one.
He gave as good as he got.
He was wounded inside although I found and held the small ember of life
still smoldering despite years of abuse from his father, society, himself.

This ember grew from my love and attention.
He refused me in wholeness, seeking pieces in need
And I gave, and gave and took little.
He needed me in ways neither of us could fathom at the time of his despair

But so many nights, alone and waiting
worrying relentless thoughts 
who he was with; what he was doing; the abuse he was inflicting on himself
carelessly courting dangerous sex with men who could care naught for him and nary a thought for me.

In his moment of lust and release, I did not exist.
When his passion was sated and his torn emotions rose
to oppress and overwhelm his weakened psyche
he would come home to me and crawl into my arms for comfort and cooing and love.

And I gave, and gave and took less.

For seven years we played our roles, him torn apart and me holding him together
as a soldier covers the gaping hole of his friend's fatal neck wound
from an explosion never seen nor heard nor expected. 
There was only the pain and suffering of his wounded soul
I held him, in shock from within my traumatized mind.

He has left me now.   Died while walking to the store.
Killed by a drunk driver on a mundane day doing innocuous things. 
Would that he died courting danger I would grieve over his stupidity and selfishness;
find acceptance in a death born of the life he led.

The suddenness of his death marked my heart and tore my soul. 
I berate myself with the knowledge that in loving him I courted the death he was denied. 
I suffer the consequence he so richly deserved.
And I gave and gave and took nothing!

The irony does not escape me.  Having taken so little he gave me so much in death.
He left me with a part of himself that is killing me. 
Painfully suffering a long deterioration. 

He left me the legacy of countless mindless couplings.
He left me to suffer and die as he should have died;
Alone, without someone's arms for comfort, cooing and love.

Author's Note

The squirrel started running backward today. Whew. I'm beat. This took a bit out of me to write.

Reviews

[mope]

A powerful study of acceptance and injustice. I've read it a few times through 'cos each time I pick up a different opinion on the rights and wrongs. Lots to come to terms with. Nicely written.

[WriterSki7]

Another down-to-earth poem by Ettorney. Good flow, nice rhyme, rather long* But I review no matter the length. Who can testify to the depths of love? Where are the sclaes upon which it can be judged? Alas, I do know this: Three things in the end do last: Faith, Hope, and Love. And the Greatest of these is Love*
1 Corinthians 13:13

I suggest getting a lab rat instead of a squirrel* lol

[zombiikillah666]

Whoa (:
really good. like it. xD

[Devons]

Every single individual on this planet has their own belief in what love really is. Because there has never been a universal definition given or discovered by anyone. I think many profound insights can be elicited from within this very intelligent and understanding poem - though it may be more on the dark side than the bright. The one thing that shines through for me though is the truth that love may take a myriad forms, and is never ever simple.
The tragic character described in these verses is a very three-dimensional one, very real. And his lover, equally so, loving despite tears, fear, pain, and inequality - receiving little in return. And in the end all he ultimately is gifted is memory and regret. And one day both will be gifted, too, with death.
The poem also portrays the torture of feelings, the turmoil of relationships, and the imbalance of mutual needs and desires. And, added to that, the shocking, almost stupid reality that existence is not romantic, and the end is never Gothic.

Only in words can any of it truly be given real meaning.
Superb piece of work.

[Sean Allen]

What it's like to fall in love? That is lifes biggest question, after the where did we come from one that is, and some of us are lucky enough to find out.

[Liza]

very powerful piece. thank you for the read request. this piece made me realize that we fall in love with the inside of a person and are attracted to perhaps saving this distressed soul that lives in the physical world going after every calling in the body and neglecting the heart while counting on the other that gives and gives their heart as a savior for their own heart. For some odd reason the lover takes on all the other's pain without ever asking for more....he took and took and i the lover gave all. excellent composition of words that came alive in my heart, soul and mind.

[deeps]

This is quite the powerful write here.
Well written

[Randy`s Princess]

Poetry`s not my thing, but let me ask you a question, is this based on a woman`s point of view, because it`s about a man, or are you playing my game lol it`s real prophetic, and I like the way it`s written out, but for me it poses question`s real good though I do like it.