Misery

Bear witness to my demise.
Witness to my confession.
The confession of one healthy in body,
But dying, dead in mind.
Some say it is better to have loved and lost.
Few know the truth, for most have never,
And will never bear such a burden as true love.
It can be your strongest tie to life,
Or the final blow that makes you fear the future, regret the past,
And forget all else.
I passed over my bitter longing of the past, only to be thrashed against the unstoppable events to come.
When our words caused for our divide I was bitter, but knew you were well.
But now as I stand over the broken tatters of the past, I'm slowly realising that more of me died then I knew was possible to go on,
Yet not enough of me died to dull the insatiable pain that lingers still.
No blade could ever sting me deep enough to even mimic the pain.
I did not find comfort in rememberance, for your harsh and burning words still screamed in my heart.
Words that will burden me beyond death, that have pushed me to it, and yet hold me from it.
With one look you promised love,
And with that look you forsoke me to misery.