It is with an emptiness in my throat,
a riptide in my stomach,
and needles in my heart
that I write this today.
I fear you might find out,
I fear you might realise,
I fear you might explode,
and I am terrified that you will leave.
If you happen to chance across this,
while actualising your thoughts into words.
Feelings and emotions I wished you share with me,
that you so easily convey to a machine.
If you could see through my eyes,
you would never feel insufficient again.
And so I beseech God to rid my mind of you;
a mind that is welcomingly plagued by your presence.
A mind that personifies hypocrisy;
as I read your writings about a boy,
wishing they were about me
but they are not.
And yet I still keep going back.
Hoping to find my name in your words one day.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
It is with an emptiness in my throat,
a riptide in my stomach,
and needles in my heart
that I write this today.
I fear you might find out,
I fear you might realise,
I fear you might explode,
and I am terrified that you will leave.
If you happen to chance across this,
while actualising your thoughts into words.
Feelings and emotions I wished you share with me,
that you so easily convey to a machine.
If you could see through my eyes,
you would never feel insufficient again.
And so I beseech God to rid my mind of you;
a mind that is welcomingly plagued by your presence.
A mind that personifies hypocrisy;
as I read your writings about a boy,
wishing they were about me
but they are not.
And yet I still keep going back.
Hoping to find my name in your words one day.
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