Dazed Off

A. Jay - Nov 1. 2023

Do I like him?

or do I like the moments with him?

do I like him?

or do I like his actions?

letting the petals of a burnt-out sunflower decide

The guilt eats me up,

even though I told you he was just a mere friend,

that my clinginess were just platonic.

I don't want to gaslight myself into thinking that I like him—

I don't.

My mind keeps acting up,

I just can't figure out this feeling—

it confuses me so much;

whenever I look at him,

whenever he sits beside me,

whenever I play with his hair

from behind—or when he's resting at my lap

whenever he laughs,

I feel completed,

my thoughts get blank.

Wounds disappear.

I burn a hole in his face.

He'd be in every daydream

and writing poems can never get easier.

I hate it,

every time he waits for me at the classroom door...

he purposely slow down his pace just to walk beside me.

We talk about the most pointless things,

the would-you-rather's,

and parallel world scenarios.

....

It's dreamy.

The perfect high school romance is right before my eyes—

the guilt eats me up.

I'll chat you, say that I'm home
tell you I love you
and how much I miss you

but it doesn't feel like i'm talking about you.

I start questioning what love is,

what went wrong

and what is right.

If only you are the one here with me—

someone easier to reach.

In chat, we are the most shameless lovers

but in person, we're only friends who'd

smile and wave and walk pass through

silently, I find reasons to stop "us".

Like a high beam headlight,

silhouette of your orange and blue rays,
stood out— the color is too familiar to remember.

The damp touch of shoulders— one said 'oh sorry' and the other 'hi sweetheart'

Your presence serves as a reminder why I only love sunsets,

not to become one.

God knows how much I've been craving doing this with you

held your hand, hugged you and said "don't go yet"

you stared,
forgot what you want to say,
and subtly hid your face

Without breaking eye contact, he continued to make me weak and strong at the same time

all the things I so desperately thought over for the past week became so pointless.

Felt like what I have been calling "love" before was merely kid's play

love before was greed—
full of honey-like flirts,
temporary enjoyment

Now love is understanding,
love is remembering.
Love is staying.
There are times that love is doubt—
but love is trust.
Sometimes love stayed awake the whole night and is asleep throughout the week,
but love is choosing to wake up.
Are you proud, my love?

a/n: Oh A. Jay, they can never make me hate/love you ://