Brownian Emotion

The paradox of your words,

Keeps me up at night.

The blue drink in my nervous hand,

mirrored in your guilt strewn eyes.

As you filled my heart with hope,

A rejection thinly disguised.

The air between us so thick,

Like suffocating on teenage dreams.

I yearn just to kiss your lips,

Even as they mumble poisoned words.

You insist it’s not lack of desire,

But the end result remains the same.

The rejection is just as bitter,

Despite the sweetness of your embrace.

A no is still a no,

Qualifications can’t dampen that blow.

You’re well enough for her,

The faceless temptress in your sheets.

Yet I remain unchosen,

Untouched by your decorated hands.

Inappropriately dressed for the stark morning light,

Bidding farewell to great potential.

The end before the beginning,

A most unsatisfactory conclusion.