Summer

I hate myself because I feel drawn to this girl, and I'm more of the cold rationale type that doesn't like to go off feeling. Any tips from relationship experts?

They say that at the touch of love, we all become poets.

Although, I am not in love, or so I think

I see you sitting over there.

Over there so quite. 

The look in your eyes, so blank and mysterious. 

It intrigues me. 

I want talk to you awhile, just for awhile. 

Get your phone number,

Maybe go catch a movie. 

I like you because you pose no threat to me.

So meek and docile, I wish I could care for you like a child. 

Yet, are you all that I make you out to be?

What secrets lay dormant within those hazel eyes, 

those very eyes that I looked into on a hot summers day and saw glimmer with excitement.

Is there a demon that lays within you looking to come out

Is there a demon with a breath so hot, that it burns all it touches.

I look to you because you seem pure.

So pure in a world where all we value is filth

You're the only girl in a while that I would like to get to know through the spirit before I'd like to lay with.

I bleak rarity in a world so cold and  careless

But yet maybe this is just me

Maybe I only make you out to be what I want you to be. 

Maybe this joke is on me

Maybe you are non of those things and I only build a mirage in my head for that which I selfishly desire.

So alas the question comes, do I pursue you, or do I  let you go, like the releasing of a fish in cold winter's stream?

Do I forget and deny a path that could bring to me joy, joy that I thought was once gone a long time ago.

Do I attempt to get to know you and see who you really are?

Would you even let me get that close, so quite, shy, and timid like a clever forest fox?  

Should I just let this all go and move on with my life?

I hate you

But most of all, I hate myself. I have nobody to blame but myself.

For I promised myself that I would be the last  to let my passions go astray for a female. 

I was fooled before by a green eyed beast, and never again I told myself.

Never again. 

I would strive to be the epitome of strength in the path of the manly solar tradition, never to let my passions succumb to the chaos of the night: the female. 

But here you are,

And here I am, caught in a cycle in which I have seen many men in torn asunder. 

What to do, what to do.