He's still writing these letters for you.
by stoop-kid
If it wasn't clear, I've come to be okay
with the fact that the world's plans
will always reach an impasse with my own,
and call off all the dreams
it swore to bring to flesh and bone
for me, because I've heard what they say
about that thing called infatuation
(or romance, or some loose translation
of that) and fools; it's easy to tease one,
hard to love one, and it's a life sentence
to let yourself be loved by one;
I was just hoping it would be worse
to never feel the love of a fool at all.