I don't want to play your game anymore,
for the wounds of your words are hurting and sore.
'I really like her, ' you say in my mind,
- like I care, I convince myself, cautious and blind.
I shouldn’t be jealous - as you have every right,
to wrap me in plastic and tie me up tight;
those four little words so small yet so strong,
bounding my throat and silencing my tongue.
On the clouds in the sky – that’s where I am sitting,
the seams to my dress are ripping and splitting
like the almost-love which brims in my heart,
tearing my chest and feelings apart.
But how can I tell you? How couldn’t you know?
How to me, your golden eyes are always a-glow?
But then how could you do this? Say these few words?
All the times I have held you – I thought you had heard,
how I knew I would love you if the time went by,
like clouds rolling by in a blackening sky.
Though now, you don’t feel that, or if you do, it hides
at the bottom of your bones where your soul resides,
and if you may take me in your arms – as you always do,
will you not see me, looking at you?
Saying, in my heart – I really like you?
Listening, hoping, that you like me, too?
May 2nd 2010
Twilight Whispers
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/almost-love/
