Come to Me, Sweet Misery

By Jessica Lake

Come to me,

Dearest Misery.

Sit with me

And keep me company.

Many lovers

Have I had,

Since lovers come

And then they go.

The passion of Grief,

The fire of Woe.

And lest I forget

Lingering Regret,

Who charmed me so

I had to let him go.

The sweetness

Of Sorrow,

The stillness

Of Death,

In time I am abandoned—

Unloved, alone, bereft.

All save one

Came and went,

Stole what they could

Until this Rose was spent.

Only you, Misery,

Always by my side.

Please, dearest sir,

Make me your bride.

And for my dowry?

No gold have I,

Yet I have much to give.

I give as gift

My gift of life.

Rose-red my lips,

Still are so.

My raven hair,

Untouched by gray.

My breasts are firm

And still are high.

I will give my all

That I might stand at your side.

Look! My lips are crimson.

How quick the blood does flow.

Take me now, my one true one,

Before the torrent slows.

A kiss. A kiss.

And only this:

A kiss before I die.

This I give to you alone,

That you may drink me dry.

Darling, I have a story.

Please listen well

And when I am done,

Weigh it upon your scale.

Judge it, my darling, against

Those you know full well.

Tell me, dearest darling:

Is there one to match my tale?

In time out of mind,

In a forgotten land,

There lived a child,

Still far too young

To be someone yet.

And within her

Dreamless slumber,

A spirit

Came and went.

The Maker spoke:

Yes

In your making

I forgot a heart.

A negligence

I know.

So from a clock

I shaped your heart

And placed it

Within just so.

It ticks and tocks.

You walk—

You talk—

You do what others do.

You feel the sun

And learn to run

And love the sky

Of blue.

This is my gift

I give to you.

A gift—

A gift—

Perverse.

For with this gift

This lovely gift

There also comes

a curse.

Others will remember love

And keep its warmth and glow.

But you, my dear, that sweet memory,

You will never know.

When others reach their golden years?

They’ll summon close and dear

And clothe themselves within their past.

And from them draw warmth and cheer.

Your heart sees not the future.

Your heart sees not the past.

Your heart sees but the moment

And a moment cannot last.

At love’s end you will forget,

What everything moment meant.

The grief.

The joy.

The tenderness.

All is gone

And spent.

Your is a heart— That cannot keep,

A heart that soon forgets,

A heart captured in moment’s time

And gone at moment’s ends.

This, my love, is all I have.

All that I grant to you.

I pray my child,

You can find a way

To live as others do.