Do
You
Really
Love me?
It’s probably
A me
Problem
But why
Can’t I
See it? Why
Don’t I
Feel cared for
When I text you anymore?
Maybe you
Used to;
Maybe you did
But what got rid
Of those feelings?
Because every time
I’m
Dealing
With you and your
Issues I pour
My heart and soul into
Helping you
But I’ve just
Never been checked on
Without me breaking first.
Always been looked upon
As support for you to lean
Against but that just means
I’ve always carried your weight;
Forever stuck in a stalemate;
Not yet dead
But nowhere to run instead.
Can you tell
How much I love you
And how much I wish you
Loved me too?

What manner of a man is he,
Forgetting all the pain that he
Once caused a lady, thinks he's free
To ask, in no small words, "Love me"?

What manner of a lady, she,
Misreading a man's friendly plea
Asking comfort and company,
Compassion, is laughing freely?

No one's right, and no one's wrong,
She's a coquette, and he's not strong,
He's no fool, and she's no fox,
You can't fit either in a box.

What manner of a person, they
Who beat about the bush all day,
Who beat about the bush, that they,
Lose sight of all the truth?

What manner of a life is this?
She's merely waiting for a kiss,
He's waiting for Nirvana's bliss:
Arrested by hurt, pride, and youth.

Colourful discussion
Free to be unfair
Our intentions strictly pure
But hastened resolve braced the air

Some misleading understood
Selfishly devoted
I felt compelled to share the truth
Of what I felt should truth itself

But you laughed at me and my blasphemy
You laughed at me and my blasphemy

As if I declared the world was round

I climb up again
To walk the tight rope
But I am prepared
I got, Fluffy pillows, Mattresses from God, and a bar
Frightened as I walk
I go half way, But I fall
Onto the soft ground of relief

My mind offers a compromise
Which is instantly refuted
Shot down
I’m absolutely amazed by the sheer
Number of superficial constraints placed
Upon me, my superstitions, my desires, my obligations
Each one currently impossibly to fulfill
Each side impossible to sait

And so,
A stalemate
Sitting here, doing nothing
Unmoving, but
Thoughts whirling about
Fidget spinners, or
Bablades repeatedly clashing
Repeatedly smashing
Till it’s just me and the broken debre

But,
All you see
Is a girl
Too lazy to move