Scared Loveless

By: Zoë Christianson

I wish that I could speak my mind more easily.
I wish I didn’t fall in love so easily
and that it weren’t so obvious.

Sometimes,
when I blush or faintly smile
I forget that I am not entitled to my feelings.
I forget that my every thought of being close to someone
is a slap in the face to someone who cares about me.

Lately, my dreams have been filled with someone
whose every word,
every movement,
every touch
would fill me with revulsion
were I to allow her into my life.

It’s easier on my conscience
to let my perversity run its course
on someone who could never make me happy

than to harbor my offensive feelings
for someone who might tempt me
to break the most important, least spoken rule
that I never follow my heart.

I dread the day when someone
wonderful by my standards
sees me for the human being that I am,
and makes me fall too far into that vile
thing called love
to remember that my love is not about me,
but the people it hurts,
and that every time I submit to my own happiness,
I’m making someone cry,
I’m making someone ashamed.

If I am anything but selfish
I will never let this happen