I will always be present to fill the vessel,
And every vessel I come across on my path.
I give from my own fountain,
Without checking its contents.
Who bats an eye towards the one who pours?
Who blinks in my direction to even ponder
What I may desire?
It has always been everyone else.
To foster love for a girl who cannot love herself,
How draining it must be.
There should be no event for choosing,
Yet they always turn it into
Some sort of competition.
The gold medal, my eyes on theirs.
The winning sum, my hand in theirs.
But my eyes and hands long for someone
In a way I have not felt in a dreadfully long while,
And when it comes time for choosing,
I fear I will forever choose wrong.
Someone's lovely eyes will always meet mine
With tears of jealousy and whispers of this;
"I love you more."
I know.
"How could you?"
I don't know.
"I loved you first."
I know.
"Why are you so selfish?"
I don't know.
I don't know.
E.