Tuesday Sonnet: I have mingled my bread with weeping

I have not slept tonight. I have not slept,
And when my body did surrender to
Exhaustion, all my dreams would render you.
I could not eat, today: I only wept.
In love, there’s no such thing as honour, there
Is no such thing as justice, there are just
The joys and sufferings to which we must
Comply, it does not matter if we bear
Them silently or speak in winds our strife.
My days are made of war, I’m lost in writing
The endless tale of roses and the knife,
I make the same mistakes again, reciting
The lines that slowly take me down: my life
Is hurting me and I’m not even fighting.