Of Love and Never-Loved

Haven’t we all stood in this awning,
the world quiet but hearts yawning
aching.
How does it feel when love is an elusive kite you can never control,
even when your heart tugs and tugs.
I keep running and you will ask why I keep running
You will say to stop and listen to the night,
all the sounds in the dark,
all the noise in your heart.
You say your heart calls out my name,
but all I hear is an empty sea that beckons for a lost soul,
any lost soul.
But you don’t understand;
the pedestal you place me on will run out of stairs,
and you and I will one day stand on level ground.

All this talk is pretentious,
I still yearn.
I yearn so loudly it reverberates in the cold night air.
I have yearned all my life to be a clog in a machine,
indispensable.
And yet,
I don’t need.
Never have needed.
See,
I was born a navigator,
needless and alone,
never gifted the luxury of love.

So yes,
I believe we have all stood in this awning,
hazy from the smoke,
but you probably didn’t cry.
I did,
quietly.