Oh woman of mystery
Why do you taunt me so?
How frustrating can this relentless ambiguity get?
I need a confirmation
Give me a sign
I wish yours and my
Selves were linked by bond
Of love.
I need to know if the passion is mutual
Or if the glances are casual.
Do I follow you?
Do you follow me?
I feel desperate for clarity.
Are we lovers, star crossed?
Or is the passion all mine,
Why the toying with my soul,
My heart, my mind?
The thought of us as one
Seems impossible,
Can’t be done.
Or so I tell myself.
The thought of you when I’m not asleep
Makes my eyes go soft and weep
The gap’tween us seems so far,
Yet we differ by only a bus-stop pair.
Jen, I wish,
That we were lovers, passion rich;
Mutual in care,
Two-way respect that went beyond reach.
And it is possible to be a reality,
Ending this time of fantasy.
Why do you increase the depression
With the seeming passion
Between you and Mr. X?
How I hate myself
When you and I are by ourselves
While counteraction equals nothing.
Your love of art shows
The passion you hold
For objects of beauty,
Real or imaginary.
Alcohol, under false pretences
Makes my senses
Attracted to others.
But you are always one.
How much love can I hold in myself?
Your purity yet footlooseness attracts me so.
Love is blind
Mend my glasses
My frames are sturdy,
But the lenses are smashed.
Lack of certainty
Quietly
Killing me
Changing passion to anger
You're turning me against
My friends, myself,
My family
(Sub) consciously.
Must you turn my passion into aggression?
Do you take pleasure in my frustration?
Are you aware of all this?
Or am I being over discreet
Tying to keep
Feelings to myself
Not letting you know
The amount of lust/love I hold,
Towards you,
Mystery Jen,
Full of Zen.