no.
no.
no.
i want to tell myself
that it's not love,
that it's not happening
all over again.
but what other explanation is there?
when you're near,
my heart skips a beat,
jumping up
like a newly rigged boat,
riding on opal waves.
when you leave,
my heart sinks
like a defeated ship
in the middle of your hurricane.
when we talk,
i am a sailor,
and you,
you are a siren,
luring me in with your captivating songs.
dangerous,
yet beautiful.
but i'll never be the one for you.
no.
instead,
i will always be the hopeful ship
that you inevitably sink.
instead,
those opal waves
will always turn
to black tides
ripping through the sands
of my heart.
instead,
your words will be my addiction,
my high,
my rush,
and
my eventual downfall.
instead,
i will admire you from afar,
after having been hurt once
by your songs.
dangerous,
yet beautiful.
i guess, my dear,
that's why they say
to stay away from sirens.
(a.m.)
at first, this poem was much shorter. but then i kept adding to it, and i really like the way it came out. never underestimate the power of editing.