Each night I lay down to sleep,
begins another tear in this soul of mine.
The moment I close my eyes,
her eyes become all that I can see.
As though piercing into the very depth of my soul,
planting seeds of desire, warmth, and hope.
As this fantasy continues in that transient moment
between awake and asleep,
those pleasurable seeds start to bloom.
Not into beautiful flowers,
but a vicious form of carnivorous plant,
like the Venus fly trap.
Those beautiful thoughts,
that drew me in,
left me vulnerable and hopeful,
longing for happiness and her touch,
now feast on such hope.
Those enchanting eyes,
that encouraged my love
the moment I first met her,
smelt her, heard her laugh.
Those same eyes quickly become
a physical fit of laughter and ridicule.
They transform into a realisation
that these sensations i feel,
just through thought and longing,
are not real.
They now remind me
that I still lay here alone
between this baron bed sheets.
She is not mine.
She does not see me
with the complete
adoration that I see her.
She is enveloped in his arms.
I am enveloped in mine.
She has my heart.
I have none.
© (2013) Diamonds