It never has occurred to me that people do not care.
I understand their reasoning and know it isn't fair
that no-one really wants a thing except things for one’s own,
that no-one wants to please you til you please them to the bone.
From this fact comes the heartache that we all must face sometimes,
though no one quite believes they’re not alone when anguish climbs.
There are, however, no-ones better than most ones out there,
who'll fain and fake a reason to assist and sooth despair.
It’s those who make the lonely world a worthwhile waste of age,
the ones who, when you’re insecure, give strength to turn the page.
This family, I've heard them called,
related or attained,
are those who wouldn’t be appalled
when your hands, red, were stained.
Contrariwise, some no-ones are much worse of ones than most,
they build up all your ego and they give you strength to boast.
Although you'll surely fancy them for giving such a gift,
they do so with malicious goals to set your mind adrift.
And once they’ve hooked your heart with hooks as sharp as hornets’ teeth,
they'll draw you closer with their charms and cunningly unsheathe.
It’s not a blade of iron or a blade to cut your skin,
but a blade made of desire that will pierce you from within;
a pin-point ***** that gives rise to a sudden heart-attack,
an ache inside that sets your mind and spirit far aback.
Love is how I’ve heard it said,
Unanswered, star-crossed, true;
they all exist to fill with dread
a slowly dying you.