Loving someone without them loving you back

(and being okay with it)

Is a tiring game of disgrace, because every seen text

with no response hurts; every smile given to someone else

aches; every moment you could have had, had he looked

at you the same way pains; humiliation because you hate who

you have become; because you want to text him even when

there are no replies, because you can’t stop trying

even when there is no point; And then slowly it becomes

a game of shedding inhibitions, of sitting right in front of

him and admitting that he makes you weak; of breaking but

never being broken; of being able to laugh when it hurts;

of being fine with him not smiling back the way you

wish him to, just as long as he smiles; of talking about other

things, as long as you get to share stories;

it no longer hurts to not be loved back,

just as long as you can love.

I am going to write the worst poem today

And you will close your eyes and read it

Deep words deep words deep words

Meaningful blah blah blah constellations

But then what is life in the scheme of things

And who ever thought that sonder, shush…

Afterall, who decides? Hunger for what

In who by who? Fill the room with smoke

So that I can stare at just one lamp, it’s light

And shadow, their secret dance;

I wanted to kiss him tonight, have his teeth

Dig my skin; finally find an inspiration for

My poetic constipation; I think I can do

Even with a fart- a three sentence poem

But here I am inducing vomit

Just to feel fine again.