Everything

17 Mar 98

Do not look at me as if you can read my soul,
for you know nothing.
Nothing matters to me but protecting this heart
that cares too much for promises
and yearns too fervently for communication.
If I must destroy the chance that sparkles
to save this heart the pain of betrayal
then I shall do so quickly,
only later to bemoan the loss
that I have created.
Shivering this anguish,
I turn away from you
knowing that you might be everything
I desire and need.
Perhaps it is felicitous that I choose this course,
mapping out our failure beforehand
so that I do not risk unrequited lust,
finding that you see naught in me
but friend and coworker.
Ah, touch my soul not with insightful communication,
enliven my mind not with brilliant wit,
bind my heart not with compassionate hope,
for I must conceal too much as it is
and I wish to stop weeping
for lost opportunities.

There is a chance that you may be
everything I need
so I must murder the hope
lest I trust again.