Unrequited

Promises are made orally,
Assured mentally,
Backed spiritually,
Yet broken physically.
That's pain across three planes...
Must be why it hurts so critically.
You promised to love me,
Or so I thought.
Relationships are about who extends an olive branch,
Not about who's at fault.
That said,
My arms are damn tired.
I've walked on eggshells,
You've walked on water.
Treated you like no other,
But you speak on us like I make you suffer.
Mistakes? I've made several...
And it seems like the largest one was putting you on a pedestal.
Despite being a cold tundra, I considered your heart arable...
Now, planting fruitless seeds of love has become unbearable.
All I ever really wanted was to be occasionally flaunted,
Consistently wanted,
To have a love that made me face the world undaunted.
I gave a kiss for every hug,
Pulled you closer when doubts would tug.
Forgive me for saying "I" so much,
But I'm selfish with this selfless love.
What does it profit it a man to give the world and lose his mind?
An unrequited soul is not strong enough to hold on to peace and support a spine.
It's a shame that your arms are outstretched,
But they aren't reaching for mine...
It's clear you're seeking any giver you can find.
Anyone can place love in your palms.
Some would snatch it right off of their sleeves for you.
You've definitely got appeal.
Making promises orally,
Ambitious mentally,
Intriguing spiritually,
And attractive physically.
A flame across all three planes...
Must be why I was drawn in instantly.
You promised to love me,
Or so I thought.
Relationships are about who extends an olive branch,
Not about who's at fault.
That said,
My arms are damn tired.
And as they burn with the fire of exhaustion,
I simply hope the next person approaches you with caution.
I'll drop my branches at your feet...
Extending nothing more than a peaceful goodbye.
You'll leave them on the ground to die,
Not realizing they'll only multiply.
One day, you'll trip over them...
And fall face first into humility.
Ironically, you'll reach for them to find peace,
And be met with post-dated futility.
No one will respond orally,
You'll be broken mentally,
Deprived spiritually,
And yearning physically.
That's chastening across all three planes,
Must be the growth you turned down consistently.
You promised to love me,
Or so I thought.
You were really just using love as an olive branch...
To make peace with your own faults.
That said,
My arms are damn tired.
Your burdens are mine no more.
Rather than stay and waste away,
I'll simply leave, while I'm sore.

-A. Lewis