Jilted

Looking for the constant, loving truth
I am jilted, sour, spoilt
Shaking my head in dismay
All the joys I was promised
Flushed down the abyss I now call home
I am a foolish mound of clay

So easy to mold, so easy to build up
But these muddy walls are cracking
My dreams of love are fading
I don’t want to be that cast aside
Memory of what used to be
I am losing faith in how long it’s taking

Having to grasp the reality of time
I resort to silly excursions to avoid the pain
I keep looking out the window
Am I so naïve to believe that the
Answers to my prayers are outside?
There are no answers, there is only snow

I am on the verge of giving up
Becoming a hermit in this coma-like
State I have reduced myself to
I am jilted about life, about love,
I have searched for something more
But there is no euphoria, no remnants of you

I am stale, stagnant, sluggish
Given second-hand wishes I don’t need
No questions why, no tears in my eyes
I am on my brink, but I have not fallen yet
I still have a sliver of –dare I say- hope
I want to believe in a love that never dies

by Caroline Guedes

Other poems of GUEDES (48)

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