Unrequitedness — Kevin Tyrone McMillion Jr.

Death would be sweeter than to taste the sourness of unrequitedness. My eyes sipped from the holy grail— its taste divine, yet hallucinogenic in nature. I began to envision a reality with you and I, as moonlight glistens in your eyes. My hand and yours intertwined, while the stars waltz through a moonlit sky. I am enraptured by your idiosyncrasies. Please never stop speaking, for every utterance parts my cloudy skies. There, in the midst of my heart, lies a flower—petals white as snow. Delicate, leaning toward its own reflection, as if it has forgotten the world beyond the water. Its scent is intoxicating; it steals the breath from my lungs in exchange for a memory of you. It bends toward itself endlessly, as though it were learning love from a mirror. And I, too, have begun to understand that hunger— to stare until the world dissolves and only the image remains. Why must I do this to myself? I am trapped behind bars formed by my own hands, and even here, I still reach for you as if reaching were enough to make you stay.