He compels a smile to alleviate me
but his eyes are merely
green tinted windows
into his anxious soul.
I see right through him.
Remorse twists my stomach.
I burn him with an accidental fire
that the Atlantic Ocean cannot tame.¬¬¬
I'm a pyromaniac
despite my will.
There is nothing I can do
to stop the burns thickening on his heart.
Should I hurt him with my evanescence
or with my infinite, unspoken lies?
The prospect of his misery
Why can’t I love?
He knows he is my silver medal,
that I don’t feel
the felicity I claim to.
But what can you do when you love another?
Another who does not love you.