Under the blankets

Under the blankets I hid myself,
shivering woman going mad in the bed,
when awakened by that hunger.
Third consecutive morning brought out
with throbbing temples. How troublesome,
oh the migraines that return so swiftly,
after years of relief from that ache.
I take some drugs, I check my e-mail,
and your words throw me back under.

Under the blankets I think a little too hard,
and for the first time in weeks I start to cry,
tears springing up in the aftershocks.
Trapped by my own passions, my heart
is whoring itself out, never giving itself wholly,
not that is has ever been requested.
I cling to the sheets, buried in the pillows.
Attempts are made to emerge, replace the smile,
but my own paradox just pulls me back under.

Under the blankets I have an epiphany:
You will always be the you that I speak to.
I cannot tear myself away, cannot give you up,
and should I think of trying to, I would succumb
to my own demolition. And I wonder sadly,
if anyone will take this half-a-heart,
if someone is patient enough to lose themself in it,
though I know no one but you will understand me,
and with that hopeless thought I go back under.

Reviews

[Nithin.R.S]

wholesome thoughts.On oneside blanket seems to b the hide out for you to immerse in thoughts.A screen to shed your tears and pain,while a relief in dealing with the illness.A quarters for remembering someone whom you think will understand you.On other side the question of giving up the dearone.
"I cannot tear myself away, cannot give you up,
and should I think of trying to, I would succumb
to my own demolition." these lines looked good.Indeed many a time the thought of giving up someone ,on frustration arise,but the passion is so much that its hard even to think about the worst.