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…