I remember when my feelings for you were diluted with the desire to be drunk and careless.
Part of me wishes to return to a summer night where it didn't matter whether you responded back to my beckoning,
because I'd never be as lonely as that makes me feel now.

The night storm washed up infant squirrels at my doorstep.
One by one, they crawled inside, their heads too heavy to hold up high.
I watched them paw at the carpet, their tongues searching.
Their claws find your sweater, within it they scamper,
they are hungry.
They rumble by my stomach, and poke their faces out of your collar.
To stop their crying, I feed them raisins, and we look to you for more.
But they see your eyes are meant for your thoughts alone,
and fall off my skin and out of your clothing.
The squirrels have grown up, and yearn for expanse.
That's okay hon, I’ll return them to the forest
first thing tomorrow morning.

Why don't you love me like I love you?
I try so hard to let you know how I feel.
I laugh at your "funny" jokes, bat my eyes, and flip my hair.
But----
You don't care.

You stare at the prettier girls. And they stare right back. Whenever they are around you ignore me, except for a few words in the hall. A quick glance is all I get from you. But as soon as they are all away, you change. You strike up a conversation and I enjoy the time I have before you leave again.

I find myself getting lost in your eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes. Sometimes I think that you can stare straight into my soul with those eyes but the thought quickly vanishes when the prettier ones show up and you leave. Back to ignoring me and I am once again alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

A love where you’re

Ignored,

Unseen,

Forgotten,

Competing,

Overlooked,

H­oping,

Wishing,

Praying,

Is nothing.

The worst kind of love is where

You’re waiting…

For that one message

For all these not to happen

All over again.