My brain must spite my heart,
I think,
for the feelings it does impart.

Heart strings already closely bound
accidentally tied
A quasi-pleasant mistake, too late found.

Thoughts attack innocent feeling:
an objective probe,
Leaves me alone, and reeling.

Unceasing thought won’t let me be
each moment
coaxing capitulation to reality.

Emotion, talented with blindness,
is slowly strangled
Only to survive, and continue to guess.

The skirmish between logic and 'love'
continues.
Indecision fits me like a glove.
ismene 6/98
Ummmm. . . .okay.