The tortured desires of a poet

Poetry is my emotional outlet. It allows me to sort through my feelings and put those innermost, darkest desires and secrets on paper, out in the open for further analysis.

They say a poet is often a tortured soul – and in this I can’t disagree. I never write when I am happy, only when I am conflicted, sad, melancholy and just weighed down by life in general. Every poem I’ve ever written so accurately defines what I was experiencing at that precise moment in time – a snap shot so to speak.

As the soppy romantic I am, I feel life’s twists and turns with exquisite intensity. Many times I feel I have no way forward but to simply document what I am feeling in verse. Writing is my weapon of encouragement. It gives me renewed hope to know that in the months and years to come, my poetry will remind me of how I prevailed over my circumstances and emerged a stronger person, if not marginally more battle scarred!

Today I want to share with you my latest piece of poetry, more of which can be found under “Tea Confessions” if you are interested. Nothing I can say will do it justice; it is what it is: my feelings, however inappropriate :)

Lusting, longing, wanting

I want you
Every minute of every day
You haunt my every thought
Taunt my every desire

I want you
In ways that words can’t explain
With every fibre of my being
I crave you, taste you

I want you
You engulf every sense
Until I am overwhelmed
Until I hanker for your touch

I want you
Exclusively, wholly, completely
Everything good, everything bad
I want it all

I want you
Not in another lifetime
Not in another scenario
Now, today, this moment

I want you.

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