Erraticness

Maybe I Wrote Too Much About You

Voicing out how I feel...
You just stood there—looking unwell.
The lump on my throat was like a stuck pill,
I watched as your mouth said, "okay" feeling like I'm downhill.

Rejection lingered around my system.
Pure damnation from my tousled hair to my skirt's hem.
Would you say you like me too if I proposed with a team?
Or just even annoy you more that you'll lose your eyes' gleam?

Lamenting was my last resort,
My heart's just starting to contort.
Nothing else aside from my writings for you gave me comfort,
And I couldn't just get myself to retort.

So soon that I can't have you in reality,
Even if I'll still wish—you won't be with me even fictitiously.
There's just too much of you in my fantasy...
And maybe I wrote too much about you to hope for us; fallaciously.