who despised me,
I post blogs I know
she will read if only to keep a connection,
a love triangle with me as the only participant,
not merely unrequited,
more a need not to lose
whatever it was I felt
when all this started,
not to recover it,
more to mourn its loss,
poetry is how I think,
how I feel, a way to reveal
what it is that goes on
inside my head without
spilling my guts out
to someone who otherwise
might not want to hear it,
this desperate one-way conversation
I think she'll read
(even if she doesn’t,
I say it when I can
because its all I can do,
like a kid with two tin cans
attached by string,
talking into one
without the assurance
there is anyone on
the other end to hear,
denied all the usual
methods of communication,
I write and put these in a bottle,
sending them out
into a hostile sea
with the vain hope
she might take pity on me,
or at least come to understand.
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