Unrequited

Unrequited

You’re a habit I can’t quit
A ghost who haunts only when it suits.
I build walls, you breeze through the cracks,
Leaving me to patch the drafts with “maybe next time.”

Months pass. I almost forget
The way your voice sounds at 3 AM
Until a text lights up my screen,
And I’m back to square one, reshuffling my seams.

My friends rage, “He’s not worth the ache!”
I nod, mute. What’s there to explain?
You’re not the hero, not the cure
Just the wound I keep reopening, sure
it’ll scar differently this time.

You drift in, all charm and “I’ve changed,”
And I, fool that I am, rearrange
My boundaries into welcome mats.
You take what’s left, then vanish again.

This isn’t love, it’s archaeology.
I dig for meaning in your half-truths,
Dust off hope from your careless “sorry,”
Curate museums for crumbs you’ll never see.

But here’s the ugly, honest bruise
I’d rather your half-love than none.
So I’ll bleed this one-sided tune,
A solo hum beneath a broken moon,
Until my heart learns to want less than scraps.