Verily I try though with equal strength I prevent;
Always am I left unfilled.
Could you be one who might adore me?
As friend, even.. I care not..
Now surely you shall tell to me that I have insulted us both:
To insinuate a chance is demeaning to both the accused and the accuser.
Oh, self, how foolish you are.
How long shall I play to myself a twisted reality in which I am the damsel, forever in distress, but visible to few? How many times shall I act out the part of a girl to be rescued by some man who (seems) to share a common soul with you? I.. I want to "like," I know it. But I take things too far. I like too much or not at all (just as Sylvia Plath did while she lived), and if I sense the smallest of an inch.. Do I not take a mile? Do I not project sentiments and motives onto unsuspecting, average people?...
I.. I found a dream again. Time will destroy it, I am sure. My inability to attract shall assure it is so- no chase shall be run for me.. Ever.