The Middle

it's one or the other
the middle's no fun
let's either progress
or this relationship's done

i'm already impatient
and i've waited enough
a long distance love
is already too tough

so one or the other
i'm letting you choose
either keep me in your life
or please let me loose

deja vu

and what if this summer infatuation
goes, and i realize that's all it was?
this season has always been one of
restlessness, boredom, and lust.

skype

it'd be nice to see your face again,
but if you won't show it, that's okay too;
sometimes i just need a reminder
of why i do what i do.

it'd be nice to hear your voice,
but if you won't speak, that's okay too;
just don't blame me if my feelings falter
and lose their grasp on you.

distance

you're a few hundred miles away
and not just physically;
i cling to the momentary relief
i experience when you text me.

'out of sight, out of mind',
in this situation, does not apply.
the thoughts of you that fill my head
reinforce you can't be mine.

Inevitable

you're much too far
and much too busy
to be the one for me,

and yet i still
hang on to you
knowing this can't be.

everyday, my mind
reminds me that
this relationship's a joke;

so is it bad
that silly me
still can't help but hope?

This One's Actually for You.

is it selfish of me to say
that i miss you terribly
when i was the one to make you cry
by absolving you of me?

i was too unfair to you.
i figured i had no other choice,
but my heart has the slightest ache
knowing i will no longer hear your voice,

and i hope you find someone better -
not just better - you deserve the best.
she'll be nicer, and cuter,
and allow her emotions to invest
in the relationship and in you.
when you're with her, you won't feel pressed
to force conversation or force a smile,
and at night, you could actually rest.

i'm sorry i could never say 'i love you',
though you said it every night;
i'm sorry i couldn't be the one
forever by your side;
i'm sorry i could never say 'i love you'
but i didn't want to pretend;
i'm sorry i could only hold your hand
when you told me you didn't want this to end.

and i hope you move on as fast as you can -
don't sulk about me for too long - i'm not worth it.
and i hope you'll be able to open up to others,
because i know you have trouble with it.
and i hope in the near future, you'll finally choose
to talk to me, but if not, that's fair.

but enough apologies, and enough with the hopes -
thank you for the love
and for being there.

Quite the Quest

A pretty damsel of an elf
Sat by the river's shore.
When I asked her for a dance,
She said I was a bore.

I then decided to drown myself
In spirits and my tears,
When suddenly, a pretty lass
Interrupted my tenth beer.

"Oh heroic lad," she promptly said,
Her lips quivering in fear,
"Please save my sister from the orcs!
They've kidnapped her from here!"

And so I went, sword in hand,
And a lack of patience,
And when I reached the orcs' great lair,
I bellowed out a declaration:

"Mister, missus, all you orcs,
Give back that lady's sister!"
But they regarded all my manly words
As nothing greater than a whisper.

And so I cut off all their heads,
And when they were all beaten,
I found the tavern lady's sister,
But alas, she was quite eaten.

A tear nearly rolled down my cheek,
Before I noticed more -
'Twas the pretty damsel elf
From the river's shore.

Left Behind

leave your love
and come with me
we seem to click so well

on the other hand
your lover boy
can barely even spell

leave your boy
and come with me
i swear i'm twice the man

i can draw
i know my math
i do everything he can

but no
you stay
as i pine away
and all that i can do
is imagine life
if instead i were the one with you

Unfit

i write you a song, a poem, a story
you reply with one word
frankly, you bore me

how can you even think yourself satiating
when our conversations
are far from stimulating

you're a waste of wit
you don't reciprocate my humor
even one little bit

thus, i must
deem you unfit
as an audience, muse,
significant other,

but i suppose you can stay
a physical lover.

/confetti

you conjure in me so many urges
such as the desire to just throw confetti
you make my face contort like spongebob's
when he cries with eagerness that he's ready

i swear these feelings are against my will
as if cupid shot me against my wishes
because though i salivate at the sight of pudding
i find your scent even more delicious

it's unhealthy, a sickness, and a curse i'm sure
as if a love potion were slipped into my drink
because though yesterday, i had carefree thoughts,
today you're all i can see whenever i think