I asked for a sign. I asked the universe and I hate the answer. I want him to come through. I want him to figure it out, to fight the universe for me. I want him to want me anyways and to win.
He won't. I think I know it too. But knowing dosen't make it easy and the hope inside me dosent like reason. I should stop checking. I should try to crush the dwindelling hope inside of me. But what am I if not a dreamer?
Sometimes I hate being the poet, the write. Because I know that it's my job to be the fighter, to win against all odds for the person I want. I know that the depth of my want and love is sacred and I dream of the day I become the muse. I hoped that it was today, even if it was for a while, even if it wasn't mine to keep.
I'm still hoping of course. I am nothing if not a dreamer. Nothing without my unwavering faith in people and nothing if not the poet. I only wish for the day it stops being so heavy.
