Poem 3

Maybe it's right to think of youI felt no pull or weight towardsThe choices seem less valid whenResults lack certain elementsI can't recall each passing wordOr selfish action taken forThe feeling that compels my heartWavers on dream and thoughtSometimes I tell the difference ofThe length from mine to your responseChanges as I drift betweenThe joining of reality

She is real as I admitThe soul, it does, at once does submitYet I know less than be foundWhen viewed from my own boundI do not find it strange to haveBoth taken and a loss of whatCounts as mere coincidence We are all entangled in

Your mess is mine but messes areLess than my own failures, soI tell it to an empty roomThat you should have those, tooWould you love me ifIs not the way for meTo have meant to conveyMy lack of ego or idBut when viewed againstHow much of you I've missedI tend to feel as though, I'mLost without youWhat is it I have, for meTo measure againstSomeone so high up as youWhen I feel I could have hadDone so just as muchThat you tell me you didEven though I'll never knowAll those moments alongBut in my own way I haveWhat I believe isSomething for you to be Jealous of too

What these feelings meanShould not ever beBut only if theyAre not shared