Cursed Lines.

the lesson ive learned after this year's failed attempts at relationships. I'm done writing about them. lol

I feel like my pen hates me.

Or maybe its jealous of you, her, whomever

Because every time I find something resembling

Love in the eyes of a woman I didnt have to

dream up or outline on white page and blue line

I feel compelled to inscribe my emotions

and as if i’m subconsciously wishing the opposite

my words turn to warning signs

and push her into the arms of another.

Without fail, every time my quill and I combine efforts

On behalf of my relationship endeavors

Some where between verses lies a subliminal curse

As if my work only wants my love exclusively

Never interested in sharing my attention and 

it’ll be damned if a living breathing person gets my affection

Sure, its lovely to get a warm reception when I

find myself behind a mic in front of those i have a

consistently love/hate oriented connection with

and it’s still fine if they happen to like it or hate it,

But let the love of my life be seated on the opposite side

of the stage i happen to stand on, and just maybe this time

the piece on my heart happens to have her name on it

and watch how the universe itself moves to ensure that

any thing close to romance including her ends in vain.

So it pains me to say this but unless my artwork is waiting

on the ever elusive and probably impossibly created

"one" that i’ve anticipated since the day i discovered

the opposite genders fairer nature

I’ll probably never be able to put my love for you into

literary expression, let alone verbal passion set to a beat

known only to this repeatedly broken heart and its owner

who’s all but grown up, save for the hopes that

the day is close enough when my other half shows up.