An open letter to The Embodiment of Unrequited Love
You make me doubt myself and go against everything I’ve ever been.
You choke me and provoke me until I let you in.
You’re looming while we’re talking, stop breathing on my shoulder.
You stand right in front of me but they wouldn’t see you if you were bolder.
When they’re near you’re shoving at me, persuading me to act
That’s one thing you can’t control: willing verbal contact.
You keep me up at night and invade my thoughts and mind.
The torture makes me smile, giggle and hate you all the while.
I feel despair and then I’m laughing once again.
Then you let me fall asleep, I think I’m safe and then…
You plunge your hand into my chest and rearrange my ribs
as I dream of false serenity of anticipated fibs.
You approach us with a guise of friend and when your mask is gone,
you’re smiling at us as you stab us deep and gaze with eyes of fawn.
You speak in poetry that cannot be emulated
Except for our own subconscious of which you’ve accumulated.
Your voice is soothing to our ears but leaves needles in our skin
Your remarks are oxymorons the problem lies therein.
You listen to what we have to say and genuinely care
You refute every single belief of ours but we still confide and share.
Your ego expands your shoulders to an arrogant square shape
Your body may be stout but from your embrace we can’t escape.
You’re short but you make up for that by reaching up your hands
to hug us tight and then let go and begin to list demands.
“Think of them, doubt yourself, compare the two of you.
Now feel the loss of something good and I’ll hold your hand anew.”
Your aura is warm and too inviting, but inside we know you’re cold.
You play your favorites, your love’s conditional, we disparage your stronghold.
Stop sitting next to me, cease your follow, get out of my damn bed.
Your presence is sweet anguish but it’s your departure that I dread.
Hold onto me forever and let nothing between us,
perhaps if we don’t move a muscle we’ll be lost to the emptiness.