i can give you reasons for my reasons, the whys for your hows. but answer me, don't you think your unlooked-for silence is abusive? it is brutal and it constricts my heart. sometimes i find reasons why you had outgrown me, reasons why i think you loving me is pointless and why i shouldn't return it.
look at me, am i no longer beautiful?
i don't know what you've become but it makes me dull and worried. you told me life isn't just a yes or no, that i had to stress on certain erratic chapters of existence to make it. well, at least now we know life really isn't going to speed past you and i.
look at you, are you no longer able to commit? every day is getting darker and every day i discover undelivered answers as to why i can't stand myself (too). if only you look at me once more, then maybe i can learn to stand myself.
YOU ARE READING
kalopsia
Poetry[ka-lop-se-a] Greek (n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.
