Going in
I knew
it was
Hopeless.
yet I hope(d) and my heart
went in recklessly —
a kamikaze jackass,
a hero of unrequited
love hell-
bent on
on breaking itself
time after time
and time aqain.
I knew that we
(there is no we except
in my imagination)
would never be us —
that the bluest eyes
ever
would never look at me
(only through, around, over and past)
and see me
the me I wanted them to see;
no way
would I ever be anything but
a muted commercial during
the pee-break of
your Hallmark Channel movie; that
the love song on
the tip of your tongue
perpetually
forming on your lips
would never be
me;
that the one
and only on your
mind,
in your heartbeat
is another pair of blue eyes,
that I
am the occasional
afterthought, usually
the un-thought.
After years of hanging
on to nothing,
Still,
the story of my life
begins and ends
with
the bluest eyes
ever.
Susan I love the thoughtbytes that go through a person’s mind if they are thinking about an object (subject) of affection. How many times do we sell ourselves short when we do it? Good poem.
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Exactly. This is what happens when we see ourselves through someone else’s eyes. No good can come of it. Thank you, Lisa!
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You are welcome!
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