I wrote a love poem...goddamn it.

Depressed, lovesick, miserable, hellish.

I Love Her.

So Much.

Sometimes it hurts deep in my stomach, where forests and boa constrictors dance unbridled masquerades of sinister and godless beauty. Tangled jungles of masochistic longing and Secret places miles below the topsoil.

The caves of my brain, filled with water and blind fish and forgotten children, cowering under ledges.

Subterranean meanderings and pockets of hollowness being filled by the very thought, the image, burned on my retinas of Her. And jesus christ never felt this way, neither did buddha, mohammed, or kali.

And I’ve never felt this way until now.

And this s****y Love poem can suck my c**k.

Because I’m not an eyeless man-child. I’m not an oppressed teenager.

I’m not a f*****g stupid piece of s**t.

I’m a realist.

And all I know is Her.

And all I know is what I can’t have.

And goddamn what I am and what I feel.

And deep inside of me a hibernating bear rolls over and crushes a field mouse and before it dies, it sees its brethren marching to war, mouse women, mouse men, and mouse children. And none of them will come home. It’s quite depressing, even though they’re just mice.

And a car tire demolishes my skull and She’s behind the wheel. And She is the car. And. And. And. She is me. And I am Her.

Please just let me feel okay about this. Please just let Her know how I feel. Please god, homeless vagrant that you are. Just give me this.

And I’ll be completely happy.

F**k this poem and all that clings to it, drowning in an endless sea of human emotion and broken down forlorn people who never look into your eyes when you pass them on the street... They’ve lived here all their lives and they don’t know any better.

I don’t write Love poems and I shouldn’t Love anyone.

But I do.

What can I say?

I’ve been hit by a train.

Reviews

[matt]

The best part about this is I know exactly how you feel, so it resonates a lot with me. Great job on this!