La Douleur Exquise (n.) the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable
A LETTER FROM HIM:
Your heart, opened with vigor
Greeting me with a hush
On your lips, on the cusp
At the tip of our tongues, another secret
That was us...
Vibrantly coloured, and blinding with love
Swiftly through my retina, optic nerve, to brain
Now my thoughts are all the same
That was you... A love buried deep, in a well, off the grid
Behind the kissing shadow puppets on the wall, we hid, last night's escapades
An explicit expedition stays hidden
Just as feelings that crease us to a fold
The greatest love story never told
For fear to commit, til our heartstrings are stripped, like us once more, and the meddling lust
That greets with a hush...
Silencieuse.. ©A.R.Le'Gare
Photo by Alejandra Quiroz on Unsplash
This is our endgame
Being strangers again
You are my secret
My beautiful little secret
Our perfect communion
The warmth of your passion
Obliterating myself in this madness
Losing myself in your embrace
It's a painful return to reality
Holding on to what we could be
With a remnant of our ecstasy
I will hold you in my heart forever
I had a taste of paradise
In our secret hours of the night
But our destiny is sealed forever
That moment we crossed paths
La douleur exquise ©Britt H.
A collaboration with the ever talented poet @a.r._legare_poetry about the multifaceted word LOVE. The exquisite pain and drug effect of it.
©Britt H.
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Hello, I'm Britt, the person behind the writings you'll find here.
While I can't promise a constant stream of exclusive content, I can promise to consolidate my often scattered, writing portfolio right here on BMC. Think of this as the dedicated home for all my work. Please note, this process might take time, depending on my daily condition.
For me, writing isn't just my craft; it's my sole way of working. As someone navigating multiple chronic illnesses with frequent medical treatments at various hospitals and clinics, my routine often leaves me with little energy or capacity for much else.
As an autistic individual with a severe anxiety disorder, holding a conventional job is almost an impossible feat—a sad reality that is a stark contrast to how I used to be able to function. These days, even an unexpected phone call can throw me into disarray, let alone stepping out the door.
Despite these immense challenges, they have, unexpectedly, opened new doors. In a way, being chronically ill has been a blessing in disguise, granting me the space and courage to pursue writing.
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✍️Previously published: 11th October 2017
Part of my consolidated writing portfolio.