Today I have found it particularly difficult to gather my thoughts into a poem, but somehow I’ve done it. The prompt for day 4 was to write a sad poem in simple words, and maybe use a sonnet structure in the process.
I was on the bus when I saw your email.
You were saying, “please, please” and I,
for the first time in months, felt how cruel
it was to have to choose. I learned
that I could second-guess myself
and I felt drunk with all the weight
of unwanted love. How had my life
reached this point again, where I felt
so lost? And how could I explain to you
all the hours spent bleeding myself
dry? You would not have understood
the hopes turned into silent grief.
And, to tell you the truth, I, too struggle
with this invisible loss. Is it worth the trouble?