Sehnsucht

Absence makes the heart grow absent
Now we’re past tense
I was sad, but now I’m past it
You’re forgotten, and no last ditch
effort from you can get you back
on my good foot — I’m fasting
from you, out your grasp
You don’t have a hold on me
now, gotta blast.
A high like rockets’
gotta hurt the whole way down
Stratus clouds, spread me too thin
and now I’m foggy —
lost my wiles.

Addicted to tattoos
but the mark I’d leave
was much too permanent
I’ve been spurned for this
But this was worth more than ink
sealing our bond —
rings encircled forever
like the time you’d lead me on
and I’d follow you to the ends
of an Earth that’s limitless
and you’d still hold me in regard
with those whom you forget exist
your silence spoke
and I refused to listen
but now I get the gist.

I waited with bated breath,
now with feelings abated.
Communication waned
and correspondence decayed —
no longer your favorite.
Not even the time of day
could get us right twice
if sandstorms waged —
our hour’s passed
we belong to the impasse
You’re free at last.
Too many fish in the sea;
tossing my line back out to cast.

If you showed back up, your role would be reprised. And though I’d despise my lack of discipline, my delusion would leave me tongue-tied. In too deep, I pried and pried, but you lied. Or maybe I romanticized dreams that just seemed to align. A coincidence led to an inference, and feelings unrequited. How shortsighted to look down the road, and miss all the warning signs? Slow down, proceed with caution, speed bumps up ahead. I swore you led, but I was way ahead of you — you kept your pace when I sped.

Boundaries kept; didn’t settle for less, but what am I left with? The same lesson I’ve learned once, then over again — I can’t help it. I know you felt it – or is this a head trip? Maybe I misinterpreted common attention as some kind of interest, unintended from the man who I thought for whom I was destined. Learning that answered prayers can be negative, and to live and let live. Motives become furtive, I’ve begun thinking in cursive.

No closure for books unopened, but I’m open to the prospects that one day will be chosen. And I’m hoping for an influx of requited emotions. Putting my eggs into baskets like Mancala, hella options. Sugar sweet, like my cadence went up an octave. Gotta watch it — they selling dreams with a side of broken promise. And if I’m honest, I’ll believe it all, til it becomes alarming. So here’s a warning, please take heed: your soulmate follows your creed. So when you meet him, plant your seeds, and if you’re the one, you can concede.