poems, prose and
other pretty words
© 2010-2014
Chel Mercado

                      i'm ignoring the phone on purpose, you know


whatever it is  you see in me
(I could ask, but I would not dare)
there is no reciprocity.

you speak and I smile back blankly.
your trivial story I cannot bear,
whatever it is. You see in me -

an  object  of  idolatry,
but I disregard your pitiful prayer.
there is no reciprocity.

the smile I wear is but a courtesy—
you know your voice composes my nightmares?
—whatever  it  is  you  see  in  me

and whatever you try to give to me
(I could  ask, but  I  do not care)
there is no reciprocity.

it's all your one-dimensionality
that's very plainly killing me—I swear
whatever it is you see in me;
there is no reciprocity.