The last poem

This is the last poem for you

I’m done with pouring my feelings out

just to absorb them again

Like a sponge submerged

in a fish bowl



I’m done with being afraid

of standing up

of speaking out

of laughing

just because you’ll snigger



I’m done with hoping against hope,

yearning for a light.

Better to embrace darkness

than perish trying to get an unlit candle.



I’m done with trying to impress you from a distance

Its pointless to 'shoot my shot'

and hope for a bull's eye

when the target is continents away.



No more letters,

gifts,

or glances from me.



You won’t even notice it.

Which is great,

because this is the last poem for you.