My Own Worst Enemy

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Heaven knows why I continue to blame
You for my fragmented soul, when the fault
Lies with me alone. But, admitting shame
Achieves no solace – no peace to exalt –
When my thoughts constantly echo failure –
Real and imagined – poisoning present
Delight; making my own mind the jailer
Of happiness. I fear this discontent
Will grow, festering in obscurity;
Resistant to the healing love provides.
Neglect has sullied passion’s purity;
Cursing affection by excising pride.
   Memories of you leave my heart fallow,
   And forever proofed ‘gainst Cupid’s arrow.

Broken

For Isabella Pontanares

Perhaps they're right when they call us broken;
When we so often risk sanity for
Love; leaving hearts exposed in this barren
World – yielding all to those we would adore.
Others' failure to see our scars cannot
Make us free of pain. In truth, we endure
A hurt deeper than blades can reach; a rot
Within – vile self-doubt, immune to cure.
Yet, as each breath begs surrender, we find
The strength to carry on; some ghostly hand
To pull us through in both body and mind.
'Tis certain time will become the glue, and
   Someday we'll be surprised to discover
   Our shattered pieces fit back together.

Damn'd Cupid has Forever Cursed Me

For "Her."

Damn’d Cupid has forever cursed me
To dote on imperfection’s perfection;
With my eye to admire her beauty,
While my heart bleeds, battered by rejection;
The Archer’s arrow easily pierced my breast,
Though she, to love’s wound, was proof’d it seems.
Now visions of joy have been smashed to dust,
And the failures suffered infect my dreams;
Am I thus condemned to crawl in darkness,
The blind victim in this malicious hoax;
Destined to be consumed by emptiness,
And forever doomed to pursue her ghost?
Oh, impious devil, pity my plight;
Release my heart that I may turn to light.

My Fault Lies Chiefly in Loving You Still

For "Her."

My fault lies chiefly in loving you still.
It casts a shadow over all I feel,
Clouding my mind, overwhelming my will,
And closing my heart in a tomb of steel;
This yearning is a malignant cancer,
Cut out time after time, but never cured.
Age only makes the failure grow larger,
Ensuring that my soul remains immured;
Memory serves to refresh my pain with cruel
Truth: I will never be free of this curse;
This defect will force me to play the fool
Until I draw my last breath on this Earth;
My splintered heart lives shrouded in darkness,
While my mind drifts further into madness.