The Drain Poem by Jean Eugene Guan

I speak to my one verse conspicuousness.
My mind is a twisting three-sixty.
I'm dying mostly because I know,
You can never be mine,
If you'll ever be mine.

I don't understand what my heart says.
It screams out all those letters that in can't comprehend,
And they splatter on the ground like dust.
Reality bites my neck off, and it hurts.
The more I think about it, the more I must
Suffer, from all the heartache and burst.

The anguish that blurs and obscure,
My senses conjure the demons inside.
The enigma of that hidden cure,
For a bleeding heart that can't mend.

Love, how can you be so demanding?
I don't get what it takes, I'm incomplete.
I know I'm weak, and in darkness drowning.
Those scars they remind me of the past,
Nostalgic they pull me back inside me.

I think I can't make you happy.
And all I want is just to see you smile.
But I can't have you for myself,
Even touch those lips just for a while.

My inner sense keeps dragging me.
They tell me of lies that I know for truth.
This they tell me and it seems to hurt
Even though I don't really know, afraid to see
And I know, just know I can't have you,
Even if I will ever, even, have you.