I choose to love you,
but sometimes it seems that I am always the one
left loving
and never loved.
Popp!nTalkLive on :)
Popp!nTalkleft:
alone,
loving,
to be the last one caring…
I fancy myself a writer, a tea drinker, and a stare-at-the-sky kind of gal :)
I am currently writing "Kanda Land", "The Universe Inside Her II: a book of unsorted poetic letters", and, of course, "The 'Eternal I'" is in the works!
blog email: alyssamcclure@poppintalk.com
Popp!nTalk
One reply on “Left Loving…”
…You ask me to care,
but do you?
Care about me?
I am always the last to care,
I think it’s my job.
To care even when I’m not cared for.
To care beyond the burdensome load of my presence.
Am I not worth caring about?
Do I not deserve love or help or care, too?
I am left loving,
chained to the responsibility of caring,
even alone,
even (and maybe especially) when it is never returned.
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