Doesn’t it just suck massive ones
when you muster up all your courage,
you put all your fears aside,
you swallow your pride,
and you tell the one you hold these
passionate feelings of affection
(whether it be sincerely true
or just a lot of hot empty air)
and then the person smiles awkwardly at you
with sweat coming down from their forehead
before the crushing words of
“But…I don’t like you”
come seeping out of their mouth silently?
It’s a motherfucker, isn’t it?
This poem is not for those people.
It’s for those rare unlucky fools
who utter those unfortunate words,
who, by reasons only Allah knows,
become the target of repressed confessions
and for reasons beyond their control,
not being attracted to a single one of them.
These poor souls must probably be asking themselves:
“Why am I not attracted to any one of them?”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“Am I a asexual slug?”
I say to you,
Do not shave your bald and be a monk! (or nun?)
Do not transform into an unattractive hermit!
Stay exactly the way you are!
Someone WILL sweep you off your feet!
You will least expect it!