I keep my mouth clasped of secrets and riddles
But they slowly become something I fiddle
Around with in spare time
They bash in and wreck me as though I'm on the frontline
Of happiness and sadness. They clash together
All in my mind like thunderstorm weather.
I feel it closed up in a jar in my mind
As it stew within its own rotten brine
A thought so innocent yet could sound 3000 ways
"I'm starting to miss you, I'm afraid"
Not sexual, not romantic, not spiteful, or glorifying
I question myself if it's for friendship or more mortifying
To maybe see a pinch of doubt in his eyes.
That I might do it again or maybe something worse
That could make me numb or even coarse
I know I used to say I hate you, sympathy, I seemed to lack
but actually, I hated myself in fact
I want to go back 3 years and start fresh
without all the confusing sexuality mess.
I wish my hormonal brain was cured and stable
Without all the jumble of blue and pink cables
I wanted him but I wanted to know what the touch of pink felt like
Unfortunately, it lead to feelings and although despite
They were true but false all at the same time
A thread remains, after all, it was a tight bind
Despite cables and plexiglass
I wish I could rewrite those memories to have a better past
But in a way I don't, I want us to talk like we use to
cause honestly I really fucking miss you
YOU ARE READING
You Don't Realize
PoetryI know I said I'd stop being all angsty but I needed to get this out.