My heart is swollen, bruised with tears
they fall, a private, masked ordeal.
They squeeze through wrenching, violent splits,
before renewed resolve can seal
the evidence. I love.
There’s no escape, despite pretense;
the ache is like a hollow core,
expanding as I yield control.
I’m empty and I can’t ignore
the truth. I need your love.
A lethargy imprisons me
in chains of hopelessness. I lie
in mourning, all defenses down
and face the feelings I deny.
Despondent. This is love.