Secret Desire

She is with him, but she is unmoved in her responses,
For he is not her desire, but another man she fantasizes.
Intermittently, she feigns pleasure through spurious euphoric noises;
She cannot stop thinking of him and is taken in her longing.
Her spirit burns, in the fire of her unceasing yearning;
She is not his — but she truly wants to belong to him.

After It’s Gone

When love is no more, the viciousness of words
is the the weapon that cuts to the core;
all that is left are melancholic whispers, and thoughts of regret.
Years of unhappiness is a slow death,
culminating in the gasping of air in final breaths—
from deep wounds, the soul is disfigured,
and the heart relinquishes passionate feelings in its relent.
There are no goodbye kisses or last intimate experiences;
after the last screams, hatred rises to the surface,
and tears are shed in stagnant silence.
The door closes, and the first night of loneliness
brings more melancholia and darkness.
In an empty dwelling, after it finally sets in,
reality is cruel in its starkness.

Isabella’s Whispers

Because of my faults and afflictions, do not shun me;
through loving eyes look upon me and truly see the makings of my depths.
Hear the beauty of my utterances through anguished breaths;
In my weariness, hold me in warm caress, and immerse me in your tenderness.
Had I not tasted of love, I would not have known of its healing effects;
do not turn away from me lest I am shattered in my vulnerable fragility,
for if I am shattered, I shall be vastly scattered — and if I am scattered,
the remnants of me will be blown away by the wind,
and taken to a place of desolation where coldness of the heart begins.

Longing

The first time I saw you, I loved you,
But you had already given your love
To someone else;
Many years have passed, 
And I still think about you;
You have imprisoned my emotions,
For my heart still belongs to you;
Until you are mine,
My soul will always long for you.