Hopeless romantic at heart

Though I try to deny it, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart
Studying happiness and love as if it’s some work of art
Writing it down, trying to capture the beauty
Like a fresh water oasis in this life of cruelty
I read books where the characters yearn and pine
While I imagine a love I know I’ll never find.

If to be loved you must love yourself, then I’ve got a long way to go.
How could I give my heart away before it’s even become whole?
Nobody wants fractured pieces of a girl who’s used to being unwanted and ignored
The traumatized parts of a girl left behind, who plays the victim with every typed word.
She’s full of the traits that they’re destined to hate
So she’ll lose herself to change for them till no color remains.

But one can dream, one can imagine a life.
One can even imagine finding somebody right.
But just like the poet falls back on her rhyme
The girl always retreats back to her own mind
To the books, the kind of love that can’t be real
Well, except for the couples that are all over reels 
Or her grandparents, proving young love doesn’t always end
And that maybe the teasing wasn’t just as a friend

But 60s love doesn’t happen, at least not to me
Everyone around is just destined to leave.
So I’ll convince myself there was no pull at first sight
Push away that hope, sit down, and write.
Put on a love song, no, turn it off. 
Don’t make me miss what I never even got. 
Don’t let me yearn, ignore your racing pulse
“I don’t even like him,” but my heart knows that’s false
I’m a coward, I know. I won’t let anything out
Even though all I want is to open the door and shout
Maybe gain the kind of closure that he never gave me
And I’d stop wasting my time just sitting here and waiting. 

But what I wouldn’t give, just for one chance,
To feel what love’s like, even though nothing lasts.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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