Sonnet 1: A Love Poem
I’m exactly what you said I would be.
The sin, the stain, the blood, the pain, the wrath, the greed.
I’m nothing more than you thought of me.
I’m just like your nightmares, except I bleed.
My blood reeks of salty teardrops and hate.
It reeks of soggy darkness and gray fruit.
Reeks of the high-calorie taste of weight.
Reeks of the sinister snarl of a brute.
I’m a brute because you want me to be.
I’m a brute because you want me to be.
I’m a brute because you want me to be.
I’m a brute because you said love would be.
Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.
I’m a breathing trace you can’t get rid of.
Thanks for reading! Writing a sonnet was definitely hard, and I broke from the form a small pinch, but it was interesting trying to write in the same form as Shakespeare. Comment your thoughts below! And if you haven’t already, subscribe! Happy Sunday!
