"Platonic Preservation: Emotional Deprivation"

"Platonic Preservation: Emotional Deprivation"

She asked me how it looks.
Of course, I said it's gorgeous.
Thing is, I really meant it.
I didn't plan or scheme it.
I doubt she even noticed.
No need for her to know this.
I'm not trying to grow this;
But I can't help but show this.

Blushes and light gasps
concealed within slight laughs,
struggling to withhold my frown
when I have to turn her down,
such enthusiastic smiles
when I sit and stay awhile.
Quaint conversing while traversing.
I could ride with her for miles.

Ah well.
A man can wish.

Skirts lay about her legs
like wrappers around chocolate.
If I stared any longer,
one would swear that I lost it.
Eyes locked on her dress.
I should digress;
but carefully selected words die
when truth lingers within the eyes.

Am I a jerk
for glancing at a short skirt?
Is that so crude?
Am I that rude?
Maybe I'm the dude
that she perceives as prude.
I may be too modest;
but I'm worse when honest.

I just can't be;
But a man will lust.

How does one speak their mind
with no risk of regret?
This solution may seem simple;
but I haven't found it yet.
Spending so much of my time
trying hard to resist.
I've no lease to expression;
so I struggle to desist.

She's confused.
I'm maligned.
Awkward silence protrudes.
We're lost in time.
There isn't much sublime
about a mind filled with tension.
When infatuation leaves you floored,
it gets harder to invoke ascension.

Maybe she isn't paying attention.
Why do I want her to?

Why do I take delight
in sitting around late at night
only to say that I can't stay
and have to reluctantly walk away?
What manner of friend am I
if I can't maintain my disguise?
History has consistently proven why
cloaks are worn by the wise.

I can't compromise our friendship;
but it's not fair to my feelings.
Comfort and choices rarely share kinship;
so it might not be worth revealing.
Besides, I know why I'm concealing.
It does stem from noble stances.
Things are great; so why take chances?
There will be no awkward advances.

Still in all, some part of me
really hopes that she can see.
I'm not concerned with what will be.
I just wonder what would be.
If this were a different time
and things weren't strewn and misplaced,
maybe then I'd share with her
that which I cannot give chase.

That would be nice.
Maybe she thinks so.

So much for that.
A man can wonder, though.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz