To the Boys

I could scream towards clocks for a thousand years.

Never lose my voice, but slowly lose my hope.

Calm down, she always says, as she takes my tears.

The Other Me, whispering that I will never be alone.

In this spectrum, my color has no companion.

So individual or just not meant to be joined.

I don't need a knight or a world class champion.

I don't need a Greek Adonis or a man with too many cash coins.

My eyes wander and fix from some boy to another.

My eyes are tired from looking too long.

Heart broken from never having a single lover.

If I was made like this, why does it feel so wrong?

To be cold-shouldered, a virgin maiden in the fog.

Can you hear it...my feet walking on water.

Walking away from this world, for it's the wrong one.

All those pesky emotions can finally be slaughtered.

I won't have to worry about becoming undone.

What have I done to myself?

To give myself false hope for those damn boys.

I live on a building to never be touched, not on a shelf.

It would be closer to it, but this thing I am is not my choice.

Love always,

Chayle