My feelings have me feeling sick,
Sick with envy, frustration, depression,
I should be happy but I'm always stuck in limbo.
It isn't a secret, but I miss you,
I miss you so much it twists in my stomach,
Makes me look for your signs and symptoms that aren't there.
Moving forward but feeling my heart stick,
Like sweaty thighs on hot leather seats,
Peeling away with such a burn that I wonder if part of me is left behind.
I know my words aren't a secret,
Anyone can find them, but
That doesn't mean I wish for all to know them,
Especially someone I feel so much for when I've never met them.
I can only imagine they feel the same about me, with your brutal honesty.
We burn, I'm sure, two sides of a coin completely opposite.
They will always be compared to me,
And part of me will always wish I was them.
It hurts to feel this hurt so harshly,
Agonizing in my self-wrought agony,
Is it cruel of me to write this now that I know you probably had a good night?
I'm happy, I am, and I'm sure you were for me,
But it twists, sharp, that envy,
As I'm sure it did for you.
Haunting my mind and guiding puppet-string fingers to every possible place a change could be,
Making me look for things that aren't there,
When I should be sleeping, roiling in my bile, is an envy.
Inescapable- threatening to choke me.
Two spirits running in parallel, both hoping their paths will never collide,
Or are they hoping they will, so they can gouge parts away from me like I did you?
Wondering, not knowing, drifting in thoughts I shouldn't have about a life I'll never know.
I have an early morning tomorrow, envy,
Be a dear and stop bothering me.
YOU ARE READING
Air Conditioning
PoetryVent poetry It's frowned upon putting your heart on your sleeve with such a weak code like a three number pin. For both of our sakes I hope you aren't the type to spend your time digging your claws in and working to decode someone else's words an...
