Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2017
I don't care.

You see that's just it: I don't care.
And it doesn't really matter if I'm lying or not because I don't care.

I'm more numb to the fact that love is a subject I used to want to talk about. I don't really feel like writing about it either but here we are.

Although I'm not as big of a believer in love as I used to be, I'll probably still hate you if you say love is just an illusion. But to be honest, love still *****. But there's nothing  more that I'm willing to give everything I have for. Except for God, or myself. But this is what you get with me being selfish.

I was talking to an old classmate of my brother's and I tell her I would rather have a son than a daughter. And she says she would rather have alcohol than kids -- she's younger than me. And suddenly I don't feel great. Who knew it would take one sentence for me to feel shock and then... hate her. Or rather her judgement. Part of me refrains from wanting to **** her, but I've always been violent right?

Chances are, if I have a son I am more likely to raise him as more machine than man. He would earn the pride of the family by being more man than human. And that's probably my fault. But's it better than me having a daughter.

Because the only thing worse than having a child who isn't like me, is having a kid who is me. I would want more than anything to raise her to be her own person. But the chances of her becoming me by default are more than likely.

But I'm not a parent, not yet anyway. But here I am, surrounded by all my friends -- in relationships...

And love now seems more like an idea than a goal. They're all holding hands and spending time together. And you can see the way they look at each other. It almost makes me feel sick. Because it's obnoxious... but I want it.

I hate that I have to be the cynical ******* who nags on people for loving other people. I have never known this kind of live. It almost makes me want to be bi, or an atheist, or anything that isn't me.

They're holding each other again. I  catch myself staring and suddenly I don't feel very safe anymore.

Because love ******* *****.

So why do I want it?

I try to bring up the conversation up with a friend. She says, "What are you, 16? You're only 16."

She's the same exact age as me... and in a relationship. As much as I want to point out the hypocrisy, I don't.

Her girlfriend arrives 5 minutes later and I watch them drive off together. So I leave, get in my car, turn up the music and drive home...

alone.
Wrote this a while back when being in a relationship seemed the best thing I never had.
Delta Swingline
Written by
Delta Swingline  F/My Music Studio
(F/My Music Studio)   
452
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems