Why do I love you?
A man who does not love me?
Cannot love me?
Will not love me?
Am I that hard to love?
Or that easy to hate?
Why do I love you, a man that does not love me?
Loving you for so long,
not blind like poems say,
I saw, I saw,
The way you’d look at me,
Not with love, no,
Not like how I looked at you.
I see your good and love you more.
I see your bad and love you more.
I see you and love you.
You see me.
With my eyes upon you,
knowing, knowing,
How deep my gaze is,
How I love you,
Knowing, knowing,
How I knew you did not.
Why do I love you, a man who does not love me?
Why do you not love me, a woman who loves you?
I do not regret loving you,
Nor the feel of your fingertips across my skin,
Nor your voice in my ears.
I do not regret loving you,
Nor knowing the sent of your hair,
Nor the memory of your hand encompassing mine.
I do not regret,
I do not regret,
The pain that I feel,
Nor that the merest thought of you that makes me smile.
I do not regret.
I do not regret.
I do not regret.
Oh how lovers lie.
To regret would mean that I wish,
I wish,
what happened between us should not of happened,
That I would wish,
Wish,
for the memories to fade and disappear.
Now that would be a lie.
Oh to forget this scar upon my heart would be a wound worse than it ever was.
I will bear with its pain using the memories of you to dull it,
Using the love I still feel for you to heal it,
Heal it so one day you will just be a tale to tell of this pale scar upon my heart.
But for now you are fresh and alive in my heart,
And in my heart you will never leave.
I love you a man who does not love me.
I love you, not blindly like the poems say.
I love you man that I love.
I love you all the same.