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