How can we make this ennui more palatable?

Baring our buttocks on street corners?

Dancing like the whirling dervish upon a stage?

Licking the dirty bottoms of black leather boots?

Seizing the moment with a flaming kiss?

Telling our beloved in what way we love him.


I creep into the shell of boredom

Curled into a fetal shape in bed crying

Realizing that I have become Eponine

Les Miserables echoes my life

Loving only in my mind, in dreams, not in reality

Until I die upon jealousy’s battlefield

Slashed to the core for loving too much

For loving one who will never love me that way.


There is no room for me; his heart belongs to another

So I spit up another serving of anguish

Of love unrequited, unvalued, until my body shrivels and withers

As long ago my heart did.

Resigned to spinsterhood until death takes me away

For my life without his love is not worth living.


I looked but found no one to ease the unendurable ache in my heart

And all the while, death gained a toehold in my innards

For I could fight no more and I had lost.

It is not fair and it is all I had

Why must life turn out so bad?

Now I must buy myself a plot

And wonder why I went to rot…


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