I think of nothing else but
Oh no, not again.
Even in the relief of reciprocation,
thinking there is a lesson in disguise,
something I’ll learn in time,
though I know it’s not for me.
I am too starved—
starved for touch,
for attention,
for kindness.
I can’t help but take
even the smallest gesture
as something more,
something faint and fragile,
like a thread connecting us,
though it’s barely there.
I’m not the one
to break into someone’s peace,
But still, hope lingers—
quiet, persistent,
like a whisper in the night.
Half of this is a dream,
delusions I’ve made up,
Ambitions too large for my heart.
But for a moment,
when you notice things no one else does,
when your laugh dances in the air,
when you guide me gently through the world,
when your eyes hold mine
a little longer than they should,
when you wait,
and I know I’ll wait too—
I dare to hope.
For just a second,
maybe this won’t be another lesson,
but I know deep down,
it’s me who spins these lies,
stitching together what is, but probably isn’t real.
And in the end,
you are just another lesson
A beautiful paradox
I’ll never fully understand. Perhaps I'm not meant to.