Sparkatale

"You are such a good friend"

"Yeah I know."

"I dont understand why you're single."

Neither do I...

I remember when I was in young love

Now it feels so long ago.

I remember the butterflies on the cusp of flying me away.

The name flashing across my phone and the drop in my belly.

Planning out dates and kisses shared,

imagining when you'd call again.

But that will never be again,

now a cold stone where my heart once beat.

A cracked old structure worn by abuse and no upkeep.

No warmth to keep it sustained,

no hope to keep it alive.

Dying on the vine of loves cruel backlash,

lost in the sea of vicious self doubt.

No one cares for the broken.

No one looks to the departed anymore.

I am but a ghost in this city,

a city so grey and bleak to those like me.

The hopeless,

the un-extraordinary

The easily forgotten.

Do I lack passion in my eyes?

Do I lack the drive?

Am I not worthy of a passing glance?

Wont someone look at me?

Make me belive I am here...

But as I stare at a phone that will not ring,

a voice that will never call...

I know in my heart I am part of the select few

The unwanted

the Easily forgotten

And in the end I will leave this earth with no great mark as many have done before me.

Only with but a whisper on my lips.