Laura Breidenthal Poet Romanticism

Weak Spots Xxiii

The pretty cast of sorrow—
Hollow, yet comforting, 
When damasked on those lips, 
Or teased upon that fake smile

I see such sorrow inside of her
And weep inwardly,
For I love her gazes 
And hate her mazes

Paler now is the face
And love it more I must,
For the moment I express disgust,
She is gone like rain
Leaving guilt on trickling rooftops

Hollow company—
Is still company, 
And that is why I still love her—
Somehow her smile is real

2.23.20

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Justin Bordner January 12, 2021 at 11:26 AM That's deep...I love the conflicted love on your lips Poestess.. Where I come from we call these feelings, along with the pain and the joy, a love battle...this poem is Fire...Justin...A FAV! Laura Breidenthal January 13, 2021 at 4:01 AM I hesitated to call this a romantic piece until I realized actually just how romantic curses of the self can truly be.. I like that, a love battle.. You've always been a perceptive reader Justin..thank you.. ~Laura