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Poetry News Post #6995

I Really Did Love You

Written by: Librarian Annase D'Arcangeli, Opalescent Inkwell
Date: Sunday, May 3rd, 2026
Addressed to: Everyone


Those are five words I never wanted to hear
My eyes now sting and you're making me sick.
The stormy ocean won't silence your voice
And the sky above us presses on my wings.

Those are five words I never wanted to hear.
Would you enjoy the view if it were me on the bier?
"I really did love you," as I scowled at the poor pier,
Words were heavier than my heart could ever bear.

My eyes now sting and you're making me sick,
I'm glad we can talk, I'm a rotten sack to drag.
One day we'll laugh, I don't want another crack.
In the meantime, I'll just light up all my wicks.

The stormy ocean won't silence your voice
It won't drown my screams, it's all only noise,
Tear after tear, the sea seems to recoil
I want to rip out my throat so I'm not devoid.

And the sky above us presses on my wings,
"Discover who that is" while it's covered in pins,
Will you truly help me run away from my sins?
How long until you're bored and leave me to crash and sink?

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Chronos, in the year 1003 AF.


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Poetry News Post #6995

I Really Did Love You

Written by: Librarian Annase D'Arcangeli, Opalescent Inkwell
Date: Sunday, May 3rd, 2026
Addressed to: Everyone


Those are five words I never wanted to hear
My eyes now sting and you're making me sick.
The stormy ocean won't silence your voice
And the sky above us presses on my wings.

Those are five words I never wanted to hear.
Would you enjoy the view if it were me on the bier?
"I really did love you," as I scowled at the poor pier,
Words were heavier than my heart could ever bear.

My eyes now sting and you're making me sick,
I'm glad we can talk, I'm a rotten sack to drag.
One day we'll laugh, I don't want another crack.
In the meantime, I'll just light up all my wicks.

The stormy ocean won't silence your voice
It won't drown my screams, it's all only noise,
Tear after tear, the sea seems to recoil
I want to rip out my throat so I'm not devoid.

And the sky above us presses on my wings,
"Discover who that is" while it's covered in pins,
Will you truly help me run away from my sins?
How long until you're bored and leave me to crash and sink?

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Chronos, in the year 1003 AF.


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