Not a Poet

I know i'm not a poet because i can't find the words to describe how you make me feel,
there is more in it than love alone.
I know that I could write you a thousand poems
and i still wouldn't be satisfied.
I don't know what it is to be truly happy without you.
Yet you bring me so many types of pain.
The screaming vacuum in my chest when i know i can't hold you,
or the writhing in my stomach when i see you with someone else and know you'll never be so happy with me.
It's not that I'm not happy for you,
the worst pain is seeing you upset
and being powerless to help.
I am happy for you, but not enough to be happy.
Because when you are happy with someone else,
you are further from me,
and your absence is my agony.
It's my own fault.
You are the only voice of the thousands in my head
that says
"everything will be ok."

I can't move at all without that voice;
no poetry,
no success,
no rest.
But there was only one moment i truly believed.
The happiest moment of my life.
You said you loved me
and i still remember
when i discovered that you were lying.
I'll never forget-
and you still say you love me
and i don't know what to do.
I can't afford to believe you only to discover that you are still lying,
not again.
I can't ask the million questions encircling my dreams;
how much?
then why don't we talk more?
why do i so often feel like a nuisance?
why then can i not hold you close?
why can't you say what you said before?
"everything will be ok"
why don't i believe you?

You can't possibly love me,
not as much as i love you.
Things would be different.
So why say it?
to taunt me?
yet still.
I need to believe.
I can't breath without you
and you won't leave my dreams;
teasing me endlessly with a better life
that i'll never have
and is probably still not as good
as the reality
you share with him.
It's not that i don't like him.
I do like him.
So much i wish i was him.
You make my life a paradox-
the only reasons to love me
were pointed out by you,
but in comparing myself to what you deserve
my unending flaws emerge.
Maybe if i were a poet
i could make all of this graceful rather than pathetic.
But you're simply to beautiful for me to describe.