I am drunk.
I haven't been sober ever since I met you.
I feel stupefied by your face. Your glossy chestnut eyes,
adorned by long and thick lashes. Your smooth, brown hair
contouring your harsh features, yet so soft looking.
I am intoxicated by your essence,
the way you move through life with attitude,
though I can see the fear behind it, there's hope.
(There's always hope but not for me. It's always him in your eyes.)
I am inebriated by your voice, above all, it touches me deep inside,
reaches places I thought I could never approach,
I thought their existence was a myth, perhaps one of my many delusions.
But you can; you make contact with something that's been buried
since what feels like forever, in my soul.
It feels like love.
It feels as if I'm the protagonist of a a fairy tale,
waiting for my prince to come around and sweep me off my feet,
to catch me when I'm about to fall, to save me from whoever my opponent is.
(Except, as hard as it is for me to accept, I'm waiting for my princess)
Yet, at the same time, I feel like the bad guy of the story,
the one that gets no one and nothing in the end.
(He gets you, he always gets you.)
It feels like death, so I wonder
what does reciprocated love feel like?