Broken Love Doll

by Harry

Submitted by Samnessofself


At the worst times.

Feeling discarded like a broken doll.
Waited forever to pour out my soul,

Waited forever for the one.
Waited forever for the dream,
Dream feels so distant, yet so close.

But half in sight,

Half of me might find bliss this I see.

Half fights seemingly endlessly, will it be worth it?

Self speaks of letting half go for now,

Then I refuse.

because in that letting go is this me no longer alive?

No, I will be martyr I say

A martyr, if there is no prize.

Then I struggle on my cross of love.
Wreathing in agony the heart

forces out my screams,

Then I immediately regret the action.

because pain has been my only food.

To let it go a crime.

this pain is love,

I always thought it was.

It pushed me forward into new heights.

Once I shied away, but now I fight.

Sometimes though it feels like

I’m running on empty, walking backwards.

Then I know I must rearm for the winter,

perhaps prepare to hibernate.

Because in my food stock I can easily find more sorrow to gnaw.

Then I fight again, pray again – rise back to heaven.
Pull myself back to fleeting memory, purest thought.
Hold onto loves reality, the other half of my dream.

But this dream is her dream,

and its nature I can only imagine…

I try to dream of what her dream could be

Am I in it I wonder.

I hope.

Does no-one know but me?
Or maybe does she?
God watches, but does he see?

Is this love?
Is this life?

Sometimes it feels
Rather go back to sleep,
pull out the knife?
But with every tug I find more blood

and I cannot remove it.

For the bleeding has become a welcome
because the pain fills me with her scent again and again.
And then love finds me.
Grace lures me into open arms.
And I can’t help but believe when moonlight shines.

My Goddess’s glow lighting the way,

for her, moon and I

are one and the same.


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