The Fog hasn’t even
settled on the last
conversation we had, but
yet my eyes had
already dried of tears
but I still want
to hear your voice.
The only problem is
that I’ve fallen head
heels
for you, but you’ve
convinced me I’m wearing
sneakers in a game
of chase to
hunt you.
Easier to catch you
with my dear.
I will run as
fast as I can
to catch you, but
at the end of the day how
can I catch you if
I can barely catch
my breath, I guess
that the cat & mouse gig
applies to love and but
I didn’t catch a
a glimpse of the description
of the part that I’m supposed to play;
supposed to play, what sounds like a job!
What certified me for this potion?
What role am I,
because if you said pray &
I am the mouse
cause you would have
fooled me unless you’re
cheese with legs.
So even in the
deeper metrpho metaphorical
sense I’m
still chasing after you
so this mind
as well be
a genderswapped telling of Cinderella,
but nothing I do
can stop you from
running away from me
at the chime of noon.
I say that I refuse to chase you,
but I am an anxious
hopeless romantic & I’m used
___to being the princess.___
The one needed saving
but only you don’t need
saved, you only need
the princess to admit voice
that without you, she
did not have a
pivotal role in the
storyline of the fairytale.
AND I am not a princess. AND
I’m the one who’ll
fall
in
love
write a poem about
writing a poem about you
hoping you’ll find me
through the words
of the poem;
the words of the poem created a poem that was
meant for you. Then
Maybe I can accept the fact I can’t say
I love you, but
I can fight for you
write it down; type it out on page
until you read it
until you feel it.
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