Yours, the Queen of Fools

Reads: 125  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Yet another epistle with a poem imbedded in it. Again, I was feeling archaic, but this one amuses me even though it is verbose.

Submitted: July 16, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 16, 2008

A A A

A A A


My god in heaven,
Why do you afflict me with a heart full of love for a beastly man? Why do you allow the stars in their velvet heaven to mock my every move with jolly constancy and contradiction to my confusion? Why do you allow the moon to shine upon me with luminous liquid silvery rays that soothe my frayed nerves, and calm my agitation with this man who drives me impossibly out of my sane mind? If this madness be called love, then why do you let it drive me to the brink of despair and destruction, only to trust impossibly again at this man’s simple word, which I find that I believe implicitly against my will? Why must you torment me so with worrying and fretting, and fluttering of my beaten heart when he casts upon me his attentions? If this is love, then I do hate it, and find that I cannot live without it.
Even should I find it unrequited- it will not leave my troubled soul, even when I wish for nothing more than for all to be finished and done, you tease me with hope. Hope, which stands tangibly out of my grasp, and only causes me more pain, and yet it also fills me with an elation that I do not possess the ability to explain, nor the will to do so. Why must you disgrace me so, by making me a fool in the folly of all emotions that I call love? If this is a test, then I beg you stop it for I feel a miserable failure, being hopelessly in love as I am, and impossibly trusting. Have I not failed, or am I passing a test that I do not yet possess the mind to understand? Why must you torment me so, with such wretched and wonderful affliction as caring for another human soul?
What have I done to deserve such a thing as love, or do I not deserve it at all? Some may call me fair of face, but I care not for faces are not what matter to me. I question whether I am fair of heart, and I hope desperately that I am…for I have seen a side of the shadows that torment me with their constant, maddening, and lovable mystery. What but love could make me speak such hopelessly muddled words? I fear that the muddled words can hardly reflect the disheveled state of my internal being; my emotions and my thoughts are hopelessly lost in a whirlwind of giddy and terrifying confusion. Must I love this way? I would pray not forever, for this way hurts far too much for me to bear it indefinitely, and yet something stays me, and bids me remain this man’s faithful friend. What cruel joke is this that I should feel this way?
Broken heart, broken dreams;
It seems like life’s tearing at the seams-
As I sit here missing you,
Just wishing that you knew
What you still do to me.
 
I wonder why I keep going on,
And I’ve been wondering just what it was that I did wrong.
Why can’t you see just how much you’ve always meant to me?
It’s making me crazy
Just thinking about you,
Without me,
Without you.
 
I’m lost in a dark desert of confused and broken dreams,
Walking through my shattered memories.
 
It seems I’ve lost my very best friend,
And it feels like I’m standing at the end
With a broken heart, and broken dreams;
It seems like life’s tearing at the seams,
But I wake up every day,
And with a broken heart continue on my way.
I breathe, even though it hurts,
With the knowledge that things can get much worse.
 
So time goes by and I’m still missing you.
 
I look in the mirror and all I see
Is blue tears falling, and a broken heart-
Standing at the start
Of the roughest road alone,
 
But maybe I’ll make it, even with a
Broken heart, broken dreams,
With memories playing out like scenes
On the sky of the darkest desert of my life-
 
And I see me standing here by you,
Supporting your choice even though I’m blue,
Somehow I know that you’re still my best friend somewhere inside,
And that this is just one more stretch of life.
 
I want to see you happy,
I want to catch your smile,
I want to just sit down and talk a while.
I want to see your heart,
And share your dreams,
While I let go of all my seams,
Even if it means
I’m only in the wings
I’ll be your best friend
Until the very end.
 
Even while I’m walking through life,
Torn at the seams-
Between my broken heart and dreams
And your beautiful smile,
Our midnight talks,
Or our long and quiet walks
Down the roads we chose,
And all I want is to see you happy.
 
So, I’ll hide my seams, my broken heart and broken dreams,
And I’ll stand beside you, and pretend to be strong.
Who knows? It might not take too long
For me to convince myself to breathe again,
Even though it feels like I’m standing at the end,
 
With broken dreams and a broken heart,
And every reason to fall apart.
I’ve got to go on,
And I’ve got to be strong.
 
For both our sakes,
I’ve got to be okay.
 
I’ve been such a fool, from the very beginning, a fool for love, but I’ve got to let my heart heal, even if it means I’ve got to deal with losing the person most dear to me. What I don’t understand is how he remains most dear to me when he drives me to distraction, and makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs that I am not always okay, and that I do want to be loved, even though it is damnably and completely full of insanity. How can someone make me want to throw the mother of all fits one moment, and then make me want to throw it all away and forgive him in the very next? If there is sense to it, then I am blind to its existence, and deaf to its calls-if indeed it makes the slightest sound at all.
Why must I love, and love to hate that I do indeed love? My god in heaven, save me, for I believe I have gone totally and completely insane with emotion. I want to lie in a totally open field in the middle of a terrible storm, and cry until I cannot possibly cry any more. I want to laugh and I want to scream, I want to turn cartwheels, and hum and sing. Why must I be suffered to this damned and confused idiocy? I take my hands away from this, and bid it go its way, foul or fair, take me with it in its course until it does run bare and to the end. I am finished with my questions now, and have resigned myself to simply let it be-and him so to be- with or without me.
 
Sincerely, and from the bottom of my humbled heart-your servant,

The Queen of Fools


© Copyright 2017 UncommonCold. All rights reserved.