Any more,
I dislike this feeling
that someone could become
everything to me.
At best it is deceptive,
leading me along a path,
strapping me into an emotional rollercoaster.
Yet still it grips me,
holds me there,
daring me to turn away
as my heart takes hold
and I can’t.
For that dumb beast, Hope,
still writhes within,
leaping up when someone is kind,
when some person speaks in gentle words.
Leave me be, let me lie here alone.
I would rather have that
than to have my veins slashed in pain,
as I once again am destroyed
by an unreturned affection.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017