You Don't Care (poem 3)

It's working.
Is it bad I'm
fighting it?
The logical conclusions
that came to me-
I'm fighting.
But I know better.
I should know better.
You have no idea,
and I torture myself.
I put these feelings
down
for weeks,
months.
Do you realize this?
Of course not.
You're not even reading this.

Maybe that's how I can
let you go.
Realize you
don't care.
Not the way
I do.

You don't care
we share the same likes
and hates.
You don't care
we have similar
passions
and that we could
support each other
in them.
You don't care
about me,
at least not like
I care about you.

You avoid me,
don't even say a good morning
sometimes.
Maybe that's my fault,
but what does it matter?
Either way,
you don't care.

And what if you did?
It's not like this would
be easier.
If you did care
it would just make things
more complicated.
For me.
For you.
For everyone involved.

I told a friend.
Yeah, they know.
They told me they'd advocate our
relationship
if there was ever one to advocate.
There isn't.

It's just my disillusioned mind
once again creating
the harm
I do to myself.
Some people think the depressed cut their wrists,
but the truly depressed
cut their souls.
And nothing bleeds
out of a soul.

My soul is covered in cuts
and bruises.
Not all are from this
love,
this joke of an idea.
I just wish,
as a joke,
that it was funny enough to
laugh at.

But no worries.
You don't care,
not like I do.
You don't care
to even know
that I do.
You care about him.
Go on,
care about him.

I'll find someone
who does care.
I at least can
hope to.