It feels wrong to love him,
or think about him loving me,
because I know that the distance between us,
A hundred million miles,
are a wall that I built to protect me.
Out there, far beyond my reach,
he is unattainable, unavailable,
for me to honestly have in my life.
It feels wrong to want him,
or think about him wanting me,
because I know that our time is never in
a hundred million years
since I will always be broken.
Unfixable, too cracked beneath,
to warrant trying, attempting,
for me to honestly live in my life.
It feels wrong to be friends with him
or think about him being friends with me,
because I harbour expectations shaped in
a hundred millions ways,
I want more than talking.
In here, I'm almost ready,
to love someone, be loved,
for me to honestly love in my life.
YOU ARE READING
The Words I Will Speak
PoesíaSome many words from in my head and this is where they will find life and purpose.
