The Sickness of Love

I am deeply sick with you,
Fevered so by your essence
That no other poison
Could serve as a remedy
For my incurable ailment.

I am deeply sick with you,
So entwined within me,
Thoughts twist and coil in my head,
In this spiraling maze,
My weary mind finds no rest.

I am deeply sick with you,
Behind the eyelids of each night,
Images of you, sometimes joyous, sometimes regretful,
Haunt my dreams until dawn.

I am deeply sick with you,
So heartily given away in your absence,
That nothing but the heart, for the sake of heart,
No melody, no tune, no sigh
Can this heart release.

I am deeply sick with you,
Is there a healer or a friend
Who holds a cure in their hands,
And brings a remedy other than pain
For my untreatable sorrow?

Critics

Immerse yourself in 'The Sickness of Love,' a poignant poem by Hirbod Human, an Iranian American writer, filmmaker, and philosopher. This piece explores the depths of a love so intense it becomes a consuming ailment, leaving the speaker in a state of longing and existential yearning. Through a powerful blend of emotional vulnerability and lyrical beauty, Human captures the essence of unrequited love and the paradox of finding solace in the very source of one's pain. Join us on a journey through the heart's complex landscape, where love intertwines with sorrow, and healing seeks a place amidst despair.

The Sickness of Love

Critics

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