Writer: Redvelvetteacake
Subject: Who Art As Black As Hell
Link: Tumblr / 02.03.2022 / Reposted by Scarlettherion
Who Art As Black As Hell
“My love is as a fever longing still, For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now Reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as mad men’s are, At random from the truth vainly expressed; For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.”
COMMENT BY SCARLETTHERION (VIA TUMBLR)
As far as female poets go, this has to be one of the most visceral pieces I’ve ever read.