Sunday, March 4, 2012

Pain of Inaction, Anxiety of Decision: questioning the identity.

What a terrible friend.
What a terrible person.

I am just biding my time,
watching with lustful eyes,
waiting for others to take her firsts,
waiting to take what isn't mine.

She is the object of my desperation.
Even when in my dreams at night,
My mind calls forth others,
Because my psyche still knows:
she is out of bounds,
an angel forever out of reach.

We feign a sexual relationship-- a joke, a joke!--
but we can both hear the tremor in our laughter,
the hesitation just begging to be noticed,
to be brought from the darkness.

I am the village idiot,
but even I notice a love so unending, so dedicated, so pure.
How can I corrupt her?

Everyday, just hanging out, I've already dragged her into
the depths she should have never fallen to.
She deserves a man who's able to protect her

God, why did you make me this way?
I love her. I love her. I love her.

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