Title: This Poem Should Be About Celebrating you, But I'm too Busy Self-loathing

Title: This Poem Should Be About Celebrating you, But I'm too Busy Self-loathing

You love who you love,
and I'd never ask you
to be what you're not.

But I can't help it,
when I wish you would.
Because it hurts so bad
and you know that I'm sad

but I can't tell you.
I can't say that I
convinced myself
to like him,

telling myself each day
how happy it made me
when in reality I was waiting
for a message from you
where you'd say anything.

And I told myself
'you like him'.
But I'm lying,
I know I am.

Because I get sad when we
don't talk, and we both
message first, it's your words
in my head that help me sleep.
Even if I don't know your voice
and imagining it'd be obsolete-

It crushes me
makes me fucking
sick
having these thoughts.

Because you can't
have these feelings
and I wouldn't want you to.

But Damn it
I'd like to feel
less guilty
imagining, but what if you do?

And I think that I like you,
at least I know this time
I'm not telling myself;

You should try to have a crush on
one of them. It might work out,
you'd seem more normal-

when it comes to you.

But it doesn't matter,
because I know
that
I
love
you.

Because you're my friend
you make me smile, and laugh,
flap my hands,
kick my feet-

you listen
and you know.

You let me be me
and that's enough.

Because I'm the one being
selfish, and I'll fight
anyone who says otherwise.
It's my burden, not yours.

And you are not broken,
you are not frigid,
leading me on,
wrong,
you should not 'give me a chance.'

Because I AM selfish.
Because I shouldn't have made
this about ME.
I should have spent my time

telling everyone about you.