What I Need To Do

For the life of me, I can’t quit you

And leave the crazy sleepless nights,

Although it’s what I need to do.

When I hear your name my face turns blue,

My fears run wild, and yet, in spite,

For the life of me I can’t quit you.

I only want to start anew,

Can’t leave though try with all my might,

Although it’s what I need to do.

The sacred times are what help me through

The insults, lies, incessant fights:

For the life of me, I can’t quit you.

You’ll abuse me till I have no clue

And yet I can’t switch off the light,

Although it’s what I need to do.

I’m atop the line of your fan club queue,

And I’m sick and tired of all this shite.

For the life of me I can’t quit you,

Although it’s what I need to do.

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I was sick while writing the villanelle, and after quickly pumping out the first one I attempted for an excruciating time to write another – about literature, with the ending “I’m unsure what fiction’s supposed to do / Ask Tolstoy, he might have a clue” - but all creativity had been wrung out. Two observations about the villanelle: a) the ending lines should be strong and I assume that most poets write these first and b) the potential for jumbling lines and stanzas is immense here (the second and fourth stanzas of mine were originally reversed). If I were to revise my villanelle, I might try to strengthen some of the stanzas, like three and five.