three hearts: empty, stray, still

An Inspector Calls - Priestley An Inspector Calls (2015)
F/F
F/M
G
three hearts: empty, stray, still
Characters
Sheila Birling/Eva Smith, Sheila Birling/Gerald Croft, Sheila Birling, Eva Smith, Gerald Croft
Tags
Angst Trauma POV First Person Break Up Post-Break Up Poetry poem Prose Poem Break Up Talk shelia writes a poem to gerald to announce their break up but bloods of regret and shame bleed through some not belonging just to her shelia's my favourite character idc what u say
Summary
sheila writes a poem to the man she thought she loved.a poem about how she gave her heart whole and how he found another. how her heart was silent and his ruptured heart bloody. how she'd seen him as everything and he'd seen her as something. how she never saw him as a man and how he never saw her as a woman.eva sleeps on, alive only in the guiltful thoughts of guiltless separation.
Note
wrote this for my lit class, put way too much effort in.

so the truth drips as honey on the sweltering day of the damned, burning and bruising what little bloody hearts there were. I want to forget despair but then the last joys will abandon and i will be nothing. would it help to break this heart into candy, pieces of glass you’d choke on? your fox hair i choke on. again! again! I yell like a petulant child racing through cotton because that's all you’ll ever see me as. a ring without a diamond, a golden fish still on grass. 

you never fell in love with me because i was never me. i am a daughter, a fiancee, a child, nothing more. betrayal, betrayal, yes, betrayal, in all the wrong ways. you shimmer like ice in summer, burning down to bone with comfort rewarding as i drown in the melted. preserved in memory to love and mourn. pencil sketches etched in my mind, ive always dreamt of love. but this is in ink, unforgivable, irreversible, merciless, consuming all. 

i see the accusation in your ears, mouths, eyes, bleeding as the river Lethe. it should’ve been you. it should’ve been you. maybe she would’ve loved me more than you ever could. at least she would’ve known how to be human. now, beautiful, even in death. 

if i wear a ring again, it’ll be Eva’s halo. I love her, and that’s why I grieve— and why I’ll never grieve our broken engagement, a love long dead before it even began.