|I Love You, But Ha! (standard:poetry, 495 words)|
|Author: Leonard Becker||Added: Dec 16 2000||Views/Reads: 2127/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A poem... a drunken ramble more over about unrequited love|
...I watch her tonight. Sitting, not caring. Does she ever think of it? Did it happen for her? Am I real? She, with this sort of grand beauty, that only gods can look at and say, hey! I know what she means! I'm on that! I'm with her! Oh, I wish I was with her... Did what I said to her even get to her in a way beyond what I saw tonight? Or did the e-girl I sent my love to respond to something else, and had I said it to the real-girl, would I have love tonight? If I had only had the GUTS to do what I know a real man should be able to do, would I have love tonight? I hate to think that if I had only told her a day earlier or sent it a minute later or even combed my hair before it happened, that I could have love tonight. IS she that shallow? Was it a love of convenience or was it REAL LOVE? Surely there' prettier girls and SURELY there's a reason as to why, I went through the love I went through. EVERYONE SAYS YOU CAN'T GO WRONG WHEN YOU FOLLOW YOUR HEART! BUT I FOLLOWED MY HEART AND I GOT FUCKED! And I don't want much... Detroit's an evil town... the cancer and the cure together, but locked far away. And I should feel love, because I know I have love, but why should I care if it is love, because it's not the love I want! I want to be gone. I want to be away from all this, where I don't have to deal with you and her and all the love I want and all the love I have, because none of it's real. It is, in the altruistic, bitchy sense. But I don't care, because I want something else. I want her. I told her I'm okay, but I'm not. I'm dying... a bit away from crying, a verb away from leaving this world. Sold some gifts that I got, because I don't care about abortion. I tell others it's wrong (and it is) but who care? Kill all the fuckin' babies you want, I don't care! Just leave me be, and let happiness find me, because NEVER in my life, have I done anything to deserve this rash of unhappiness that's fallen on me. And Sadness comes riding with the horses---Her only outlet for love... It's work, I know, but she could try. I sent her a lifetime's worth of love, and I got a paragraph. Tonight she didn't care. She's not there! Drink, all of it! You love my booze but not me? Is that it? That's okay, because in the end, you'll see me with all my better booze and you'll want it. But YOU CAN'T HAVE IT! You'll be alone, wishing you were with me, but you can't be. Ha. I love you, but HA! Tweet
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