Unbeknownst to you, the unloved staple of worldly affairs, I can read your eyes.
I can read your eyes that tell stories, poetically rather than phonetically, if you get it.
Here is where I tell you how wrong it is to believe in you, and your heart,
it's the time where I say to you, why do I even waste time pretending I don't care?
For that matter, I can remember thinking, why do I waste time wondering if I actually do?
Life is a confused mass of twisting, and constricting veins, moving emotions though time,
transcribing existence between people, between you and me. Between us and them,
we exist simply to notarize the bond between boy and girl, and any combination of.
If this is confusing for you, then try to understand.
Close your eyes, breathe in and hold it in your chest,
hold it til it burns, til the muscles in your neck flex,
til your body desperately tries scraping around for oxygen.
Do this, and breathe out. Gasp, and gulp air,
and realize how much affection you have,
affection for something you never think too much about.
Humanity is a beast so fickle and frightened, full of harsh unloving ignorance,
so full of unrealistic beliefs and practices, and woeful hypocrisies.
Yet it exhumes such beauty, such raw expression of emotion and creativity,
that without even trying it easily varies between under-and-overwhelming.
And yet, with no good reason, you've chosen.
You've decided that I'm impossible, without understanding me,
or worse - yourself. It's pitiable, because as hurt as I can
pretend to be, or not to be - it won't bother me like it will you.
Or so my humanity says,
as I walk away quietly,
slowly pulling chances
from your fingertips.
No matter how many I want you to have.