Why, when I know
she doesn't notice me, like me back,
or even realizes I'm a living, breathing being?
Why, when I just end up hurt
as the sun touches lips
with the moon and stars?
Why must I allow little butterflies,
pink purple green yellow red black blue gray,
to flutter inside your stomach?
As if my breakfast this morning
was trying to tell me
I can't control myself,
I can't control my emotion:
Love, Hate, Jealousy.
They spill out of my heart, pour into my mind,
changing the way
I think, live life,
act and behave,
A broken version of who I am,
who I really am.
So yes, I have
Because there's something with it,
something that is so...
a d d i c t i n g.
The pain I'm anticipating,
Being hurt as constantly as the moon
changes its face.
A constant flare of excitement,
being able to look at her face again and
Hope to be able to get that face time with her.
Even if her time is mine no more,
(it never was)
as others are her time now.
But I want to be happy (at least appear that way)
in front of her so she too
can flash her pearly whites
as her eyes wrinkle from a wide grin,
sometimes a tear rolling down her
soft smooth cheeks
from too much laughing.
All these presents wrapped nice and tight
in one gigantic wrapping
And rightfully so,
now that the happy holidays are upon us.
"I wish I had the power to ignore you like you ignore me"
Only I can make the pain go away.