Similarly to the sonnet, I wanted to test my ability to write in a rigid structure, and the villanelle is one of the most constricting structures with its strict set of rules. Surprisingly enough, I found that the rules of the form actually helped write the poem, and I liked the end product a lot.

All I ever do is try,

Yet, it never amounts to being enough.

I can never look you in the eye.

You never understand why

The words I coax out are so coarse, so rough.

All I ever do is try.

Late at night, it is your name that I sigh,

But when I’m with you, I stammer and bluff.

I can never look you in the eye.

I wish you knew how my

Tongue bleeds as I ramble incoherently about “stuff”

All I ever do is try.

Sometimes, I like to imagine your hand on my thigh,

But then reality crashes, a harsh rebuff.

Truth is, I can never look you in the eye.

I still can’t believe I bid you goodbye,

Through white lies and an exterior so tough.

All I ever did was try

But I could never even look you in the eye.

Image: by Áron Pruzsina on Flickr Commons