Shakespeare in lust
I burn, I pine, I perish
truer words were never spoken
I burn, passionately smoldering
for a look, a touch, a taste
I've never had the fortune of knowing
I pine, aspire to be
one of those things
you hold tenderly
I perish, lose breath and sleep
aching at the thought of you
dead among the weight of unrest
But those words
they lack
can't capture the loathing
of this space
This knowledge that my heart
has lost another piece
to someone who holds it
but doesn't know it
They cant fill this void
this disturbing silence
that one word of yours fills
I am tender to the thought
the wind shakes me
rattling my desires
and carries them away unrequited
to lay at your feet
But ever true
this mark is fixed
and fate is cruel
I burn, I pine, I perish
I hurt, I love, I loath
cursed is she
who loves so passionately