I Won't

The problem is—I have yet to give you up,
To move on and accept what is
And what isn’t.
I’m not crazy (Not really)
Get me to fall for anything—anyone—
And rationality will come back
Settle me down, get me to stand up.
Now the only thing standing me up—is you.
My sanity has left me for another man.
I know you don’t love me:
You said so.
You can’t love someone you don’t know.
You can’t lay your life down for a dream
An illusion—a projection.
You can’t cry over spilled milk—it’s just a lost chance,
Possibilities, circumstances are what they are.
You can’t hold hands with a photograph,
You can’t lie alongside a computer screen
Or wrap your arms around a phone.
I tell you I don’t love you.
I said so.
I won’t love what you aren’t.
I won’t lay myself down for you, splay myself out for the taking,
For someone who relies on distance as an excuse, an alibi.
I won’t cry over your spilled words—they’re just nothing,
Negated by the actions you won’t change.
I won’t think about you anymore.
I won’t give you what you want—because you can’t give me what I need.
That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.
It just means: nothing.
One move, we’re both at checkmate.
A queen is a hefty price to pay for the king’s protection—
But that’s the way of the game.
There’s no more for either of us…and I have to tell us both
That it’s ok.
I have to tell us both that I understand.
All you have to do is tell me that I’m right.
And yet you don’t. You can’t.
You won’t.