Release.

More desperate than I have ever been before to be released,

this never-ending love has rotted in my heart leaving me sick and covered in disease.

My skin crawls as though it's infested with fleas;

my hair falls out in clumps and makes me drop, distraught, to my knees.

I beg to be free from the aching in my chest;

the constant cravings that were never answered have only left me bereft.

Lovesick now, but once I was so sick in this love,

that I confused it for blessings from the Heavens above.

My body feels pain that cancer could even cure;

the aftermath of our war is not worth the bliss we endured.

Every day arrives with new ways in which I feel sore,

that I am left wondering if my desire to carry on will ever be restored.

In retrospect, it's clear that we jumped the gun,

your words were the bullets that I never wanted to outrun.

The injustice of it all is that you have already healed,

your world is once again filled with wonder whilst mine has congealed.

Unable to ask for help since my pride refuses to allow it,

so I just grin and bear it, hoping my mind will soon disavow it.

Longing for a prayer, a cause, even a curse that will resolve this;

that my maker will soon hear my cries and illuminate my way through this darkness.

I search for a solution to the riddle in my bones, an answer to help me understand why my spirit moans.

Late at night, I still feel your presence like a phantom limb,

the kind that I lost long ago but just will not let me continue to live.

Insidious love, the kind I wish I had never known,

that has robbed me of my happiness and now haunts me in my very own home.

I sought out another to fill the void you left when we took our last breaths together,

but quickly learned that nobody else was capable of holding my hand through the stormy weather.

Forever never came but died as soon as it escaped our lips,

perhaps that was just the punishment for falling prey to this emotional eclipse.

I berate time for declining to heal the hurt in my hollow heart;

the cliche that it would heal all things has torn my sanity apart

from waiting.

I carefully studied the words of other jilted, dejected lovers,

looking for a recipe for my soul to finally recover.

The anguish is too much to bear, it's left me worst for wear,

unfair that you ensnared me then left me despaired and weary.

Even suicide could not destroy the hurt inside for it's my soul that needs a surgery,

a lesser man would have you tried for your lies and all your perjury.

I am still drowning in us, it fills me with self-contempt,

made a vow to myself to never be the victim of another's pathetic attempts.

I embark on this self-imposed exile from love or pleasures of the flesh,

as I reconnect with myself and prepare to start afresh.

I collect my dignity from its shelf, covered in dust from much neglect,

then promise to become reacquainted with forgotten self-respect.

Close up the sutures, treat all the wounds, 

conceal all these scars until there's not even a bruise.

Muster up all the courage inside me to regain my strength,

I know I will survive this, the finish line is finally within arm's length.