Dealing (Poem 2)

I could write a million songs.
And it doesn't make me feel any better.
I can't confront you.
I can't sit and tell people.
I'm lost. So lost.
For once in a long time
I am lost.
And who do I turn to?
My family and friends
only try to console me
and use the same lines
over and over.
The same lines from before.
But this isn't before-
this is now.
This is stupid- they'd say,
you can't be thinking like this
they'd say.
And I'm not thinking like this,
I'm feeling this.
And I don't want to feel this,
but it's true and it's there.
And I write. I write to get out
the words I can't say to you-
to tell you I care.
But I fear you reading it
or someone understanding
the subtle clues I put within
each word.
Each line.
Each sentence.
I could tell you but
that's not an option.
The only option
is to somehow rid myself
of these feelings
and hope you are happy.

Just like every other girl
I've ever fallen for.
I can only hope you wind up
happy.