The Disease I had...

was a disease that intended to please.
It slithered into my system with ease.
Slight symptoms showed up quick,
as if I got hit in the head with a stick.

Short attention span,
Sweaty hands,
Requestsing strange demands,
Hallucinations about future plans.

I was acting like I was on ecstacy.
I didn't want it to end for me.

that lasted for about a year,
Then crazy ideas impregnated my imagination with fear.
Perhaps panic that...

One day this magical man might leave either by choice or will.
Those thoughts made my body physically ill.
These strange thoughts birthed a virus and it took a speedy course.
This was the foreshadowing of lover's remorse.

When he finally left,
I uncontrollably wept.
A pain packed a punch to my chest,
It felt like he ripped off both of my breasts.

My body ached like I just completed a marathon mile.
Kleenex so damp it molded a perfect pile.
Then I was forced to digest these pills of denial.
they were big, bitter, and stirred up a tornado of stomach bile.

Then came the angry aggression
followed by its cousin depression.
Depression painted my face a pale grey.
In my bed I chose to stay.

Days came and went and yet,
my heart grew stronger and began to repent
My mind was prepared for the comments and questions
Though some days my heart suffered mild indigestion.

I don't know if my body will completely recover.
Mental scars continue to fly and hover
They provoke the thought and wonder of another.
I don't want to harbor the disease of a lover.

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allets's picture

~~~when he finally left I

~~~when he finally left I uncontrollably wept...~~~left/wept - I love slant rhymes and you found a diadem in these. The breast tear-off line ... I have never read such a line anywhere, it should be put in a museum of unique lines - I really loved this poem, a rare thing, my friend, a rare and beautiful thing - yours in writing, allets (Stella spelled backwards).



miss_marie's picture


You know it's funny, I just took a creative writing class at my university and the professor told me that my weakness was poetry. She suggested I should just stick to narravtives and novelas. It crushed me because I wanted to create effective poems that displayed some sort of aesthetics and life into it. That's why I joined this site to see if people agreed with my professor. Your comments motivate me to keep writing and to not give in to what she said. I'm thankful for your advice and words=)