I hate to love him,
A hopeless love never to come to fruition.
An imaginary love perhaps, wrought from longing
for what could never be mine?
How certain is the feeling lying burrowed within me?
How certain is the reality, when the reality
Keeps it suppressed.
Forced back to dwell in darkness
Unnurtured and stifled.
Shackled in the confines of me, and shadowed
By the friendship I strive to maintain.
Friendship heals one wound while another festers.
I hate to love him as a friend,
Always wanting more.
Hope fades to hopelessness time and again, before
Rising once more to hope.
A roller coaster cycle.
A never ending ride I plead to be let off of,
All while clinging to the seat, content to stay.
Helplessly mired by what I long to control,
Just out of reach.
Remaining submerged in the depths and looking
To the murky surface I know I’ll never see.
Masochistically inclined to remain here
Cursing my cowardly being.
I hate to love him.
I love him all the same.