January 13, 2011
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He is complicated.
He feels cool until touched –
Then my fingers tingle,
Heat spreads –
To my cheeks.
There’s always a shield –
It’s full of hostility.
Like a bubble I try to pop it –
Some days it works,
It just grows larger on others.
As he pushes me away –
I try harder.
Every time I make progress –
Someone ruins it.
He says something mean –
I return it with something nice,
Then we switch roles.
It’s like an unsure unrequited love-
Between friends with battling emotions.
And every time his bubble grows larger -
My heart does the same.
I am complicated.

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