I wouldn't predict where all this could have gone,
I should've, I didn't, I chose not to - and for why?
I pay the price for dreaming and dwell on,
in repose. And so loudly, my thoughts kept I.
I cut myself free of this tangled twine,
that which did not connect us anyhow.
The hope, the foolishness, it was all mine.
Not yours, just mine. I failed to see 'till now.
And so I'm not angry with you anymore,
it didn't make sense for me to be anyway.
It's a waste, and admonishment is a chore.
I can save bitterness for another day.
We work well in some ways and not others,
And we make better friends, but not lovers.
I had to write a sonnet for a class last semester - and what else would I write about other than unrequited love? Haha. I found it recently and I still like it so I thought I'd share.