A Tangle of Hurt and Happiness - A collection of poetry

A Dream

Then he kissed me.
The one thing I'd been missing.
And it was the most beautiful thing of all time.
And yet it was not mine.

He was not mine to hold so closely,
Not mine to touch or kiss.
Still I did so, with a passion I have never known to exist.

I curse myself for partaking in this bliss.
And I hated how so easily I succumbed
To this burning, aching pain,
That I choose to call love.

When the feelings of desire, burning ever brighter,
And the hatred for myself entwined,
I woke up.