Written in the form of an Elizabethan sonnet is their anything more painful than the truths that come to light when you let your heart feel love
I care for you but do not need you
I see you but do not recognize you
I listen to words you speak, yet do not hear them
I know you feel pain, yet feel none
I want to please you, yet am not able
I do not wish to hate you, yet it is easier
I wish for understanding, of you and myself
I want your forgiveness, yet cannot forgive
I feel betrayed, yet would never betray you
I am not now nor can never be what you seek
Would you have me betray myself?
That is the bitter truth I must but will not face.