Acid of frustration
burns my mouth
My tongue blistered by
words left unsaid
A poison
slowly killing me
a little more each day
I don’t express to her
fellings in play
Thinking (not without precedent)
that to speak the words
would only drive her away
Suicide to me in either case
By telling her I lose too
Oh what a wicked game!
But which is worse…?
The pain of knowing
I could never talk to or
see her again… Or
The agony of hanging out
with her a couple hours
every other day and thinking
She couldn’t care less