It’s none of my business,
clearly I know,
but you were on 39 minutes ago.
This is a piece that I’ll never send
but this needs to be sorted,
to get out of my head.
It’s been a rollercoaster of a year,
soaring high and dipping low.
Without you in this place,
there would only hold dead air,
an empty space.
Who are you talking to?
Am I jealous of a ghost?
I can’t help but wonder.
My OCD rattles under my skin,
send something else,
send something better,
do it NOW!
They’re compulsions,
and you’ve become my muse
and I’m hoping those three little dots
never stop.
And you’ll respond like you always do,
proving the distortions to be wrong.
My brain chemistry becomes scrambled and takes charge.
I’m stuck in a loop,
my need for your acknowledgement growing stronger.
Of this worry,
you know too well.
But of this poem,
I’ll never tell.
For my biggest fear would come to life,
screaming in my ears that this wouldn’t end well.
5 responses to “I’ll Never Tell”
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