#1033807 added July 3, 2022 at 8:53pm Restrictions: None
S.O.S. I Guess
These tumblers don’t align, as I
spin and spin, seek egress again
into an ocean of words swum
that hauled out by an eager man
compile messages longer than S.O.S.
This lifelong game to win affection,
recognition I’m worthy of your love,
disregards any notion of self-worth.
Not complete without reciprocation,
Validation that does not come easy. S.O.S.
You could watch my toil, tousle a blond crop.
I wouldn’t notice, obsessed until I finish,
offer each as answer before smiling eyes,
see only disguise. Just feels my best
not good enough, when you oar to shore. S.O.S.
Who’ll solve the puzzle of me, before I accept
there is no true love, a fable for all,
enthrall a meager man with no plan,
but fish this open sea contemplatively.
Can I come correct, see response to my S.O.S.?
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