Monday Morning

It's weird.
Because sometimes
I love you enough
that it makes 
me hurt.


My chest will
get tight
and my heart
will ache.


The thought 
of you
becomes enough 
to kill me.


And no matter
what I do,
not matter 
how much 
I hate the feeling;
no matter how 
much I want to
punch you somedays,
no matter how
angry the whole thing
makes me...


I still love you.
I can't remain bitter
or angry.


It's breaking me down slowly.


And sometimes when 
I'm crying and telling
you how horrible
I feel, and you listen
and are concerned
and try to help me


I want to just say
"I love you,
but you are killing me."


To tell you
the things I cannot.
To walk up to you,
close, as I'm breaking
in front of you
and kiss you.


But you
are not mine.
We just can't work.
No matter how
strongly I love you,
it just can't happen.


You have her,
and I am me.


I will be here
and we can laugh
and make fun of your
little accent,
we can watch funny videos
together.
Discuss serious things.


But I will never kiss you,
I will never know
what it is like
to be with you.


But know,
somewhere in
your heart of hearts,
that I love you.