Dear dire trepidation of my being

Broken Heart
Broken Heart (Photo credit: hyperion327)
You have haunted me nearly all of my days as I trudge this plain day after day
in your loathsomeness.
You deceive me
and I’ve grown to be exhausted
with each passing year
struggling to prove you wrong.
Addicted to passion like no other destroying any chance of an ordinary life. Crafting it nearly unbearable
I have grown black and ugly inside.
Emptiness is courting me
on the darkest of days
blurring what is left of my vision.
No longer can I rely on anyone
to any further extent.
Loathing wrenches my spirit from every corner of my being
making life most unpleasant with its wretched stench.
The mess of what has become my existence
has left me in the unnatural company
of infinite desires in which I have no right to claim as my own.
Consistently maddened
I fear love is not meant for me
I do not deserve to be loved. 
Addicted to every constitution of it’s make up
I’m vexed.
Just a word?
And if so has there been a more impractical one?
An attractive affection
I’m not equipped to survive without
nor would I even make the effort to do so.
Love consumes everything it touches
leaving a pile of nonsense to be swept away and forgot about. 
There have been those who have killed for it.
Begged for its merciful confinement.
Wept over the beauty of it
their longing for love intensifies the emptiness which impedes them.
I have possessed ignorant devotion
and lived in a world filled with make-believe disguised as bliss
for what seemed like a split second.
Coerced into believing in forever
with happily ever after’s in a dead world.
Given just enough time to become accustomed with its amiable hold.
Love is a lie.
Because of that rude reality
forever am I incapable of its beauty.
Forever tainted by it.
Inside, I am hollow.
If ripped open at this very moment
there wouldn’t even be cobwebs
in place of where my heart ought to be.  
Wary like a child
gazing into a darkened room
covered in silhouettes’ resembling monsters.  
Ah… and monsters there are.
Although, not like in fairy tales
where good always defeats the evil.
There is no happily ever after
in the tale bequeathed to this yielding character.
And the part cannot be played by no other
as no one has foreseen such occasions.  
Forced upon my lips is a smile
tricking the world
to believing I am who I say I am.
They turn a blind eye
while observing what’s allowed for them to grasp.
Playing my part exceptionally well.
Hence, loneliness fills the night and it’s by my own doing.  
Shrouded by a constant miasma
I walk blindly towards an unpleasant ending
sealing my fate, as it were.
I will taste the salt from my tears
before malevolence will release me from its wicked command.
Restrained forever
banished to nothingness
as my darkest fear had been predetermined;
I am not worthy of love.

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