she doesn't understand why I write

how it helps, what it means

it's all just words to her.

she doesn't understand how I feel,

how much she hurts me,
or how much I like the pain

she's so simple.

she doesn't understand what I see in her

I see everything in her.

she's every positive test result, or every complicated exam

she's every sunrise and every sundown,
every constellation,
and even the moon

she's everything

but she doesn't see it.

she doesn't know that I write poems about her,

or that when I'm not looking at her I hope she's looking at me.

she's over me.
I never thought she was into me.
she was never into me.

they never are.

she doesn't understand that I can't just 'move on'.

oh, how I wish it was that easy.