2015 poems - 6. Feast of shattered hearts

I loved you, but not you having me.
I loved myself, yet hated my own desire.
My love was swallowed in the emotionless void of my life.
And, I'm sorry.
I wish things could have been different, but hindsight can only change my future.
So I toast, a glass of my tears to you to futures lost, and partake in the aching holy Eucharist, made from the shards of my heart.
Hoping, praying, believing it will transmute into you.
As hope fades, with dying faith, only the greatest remains.
Love, such a bittersweet thing, like crystallized light in my chest, hard and cool to the touch.
The memories disappearing, as the beautiful iridescence burns my soul away.