Insomnia

Venomous thoughts
Infect my peace,
As needs and longing
Continue their increase.

My need to love
Continues to grow.
When I’ll feel it again,
I just don’t know.

But I need to know now,
Of its full amount.

I was in love once,
I was in love twice.
But such a small number
Will not suffice.

I need to know how much
Love I’m meant to live,
And how much love
I need to give.

As I attempt repose,
Ghosts always stalk
My limitless potential
And swoop upon it like a hawk.

I am left bereft,
Laid out like carrion.
My soul is dead and exposed,
With no one to bury it.

And why, you may ask,
Is there so much written?
It’s because someone
With whom I was smitten
Left me without a goodbye.
She probably saw
That I’m likely to die,
So I have no future
With her anymore,
My heart dashed to the floor,
Scattered to the winds and more,
Penniless and without hope,
A constant mope
And a consummate dope.
I truly meant nothing,
So I suffer for my art
Until it’s time to depart.