The internet has done such strange things to romance -
unlike the days when it all was left to fate, or chance.
I’ve been ogled, exploited by some candid man,
and supposed admirers with erections in hand –
none of whom gave a real shit about me.
All I was in their eyes was the parts of my body.
This has happened on several occasions before,
even with guys I’d grown smitten, adored.
Turns out the sex was all they ever wanted,
while I fell in love – lucky me – now I’m haunted,
by unresolved feelings, insecurities,
while they’re off the hook, disconnected, Scott-free.
While I’m left confused, feeling lonely, and wondering:
what’s so unappealing about my personality?!
I like him so much, I don’t want to fuck things up.
But I end up fucking things up, ‘cause I like him so much.
Okay, Cupid, you say I’ve a match.
So I’ll try this out, start things from scratch.
Send him a message, or elusive wink,
but his lack of response compels me to think
that I must be undesirable.
So I’ll wait for a while, claim the net’s unreliable
as a method for falling in love.
But then I’ll get lonely and go back for more:
more denials, rejections, and heartaches galore!
So I’ll hide behind the best shots of my face,
frozen in time, across cyberspace.
Using my wit as my best saving grace,
as I fill out these bits of my profile.
I know, I know, I am trying too hard.
Love will only show up when I disregard it.
But I’m tired of being lonely, and meeting flakes only.
Even after the fanmail of my big debut –
you’d think after that, I would surely be due,
for something beyond a mere E-mail or two,
or a fling with a guy whose intentions aren’t true!
I just want something real,
to inspire me to feel like I’m loveable.
‘Cause I’m loveable!
So I’ll try not to dwell on the blunders I’ve made,
while my heart manifests a deeper shade of jade.
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