Gasping for Oxygen

It's such a shame she didn't say yes 
Melancholy waves of sadness rolled over me
The pretty girl with blue eyes went on staring blankly into the computer screen 
I asked her out to no avail although we chatted 

She said she didn't like boat parties 
they just weren't her thing 
oh well another polite rejection 

when I looked up deep into her eyes 
I saw she was almost tempted to say yes 
to take a chance on a menace of a man
i would've been so happy if she did 
you know say yes 

But in the end she didn't 
i quickly excused myself 
so i could hyperventilate in private 
in the library bathroom before regaining my composure 
and the remnants of my self-esteem

Thankfully I didn't feel to bad, happy even!

Try as I may and i did try i couldn't for the life of me
wrestle the beloved from the lofty windswept heights of adoration 
I thought how lonely it must be for her 
Up so high looking down on us mere mortals 
with our creaking limbs and flawed personalities 

I decided to go for a walk to shake 
off my feelings of mild despair and existential angst 
Not long into my pointless wandering 
I felt deeply depressed 
It wasn't the girls fault she was ever so tender at saying
No... to me     It was just my natural dissposition 
In a way I was glad I wouldn't have to inflict myself on her
Like a mad juggler grasping at straws to entertain her on a mad tug boat 
what a bloody disaster of a thought

Perhaps why it stung so badly but only for mere seconds was 
because it felt like my very spirit not to mention my decrepit body
had been weighed, judged and simply dismissed as superflourous 
With the ease of a seasoned bureaucrat she continued typing 
after our exchange

While I gasped for oxygen in a room with no sound
Then quickly resolved to buy some new sandals 
To take my mind off my triumphant failure 
As my feet sometimes do get sweaty laughs
Anyway at least I wasn't a coward or lacking a man's backbone 
And she was so close to saying yes I could feel it 
on the tip of her serpents tongue 
I would've died of happiness 
had she uttered those sweet perfumed words 

As i left her in peace to continue the secure monotony of her work 
marketing or something rather boring 
She flicked her hair out with both hands
I laughed to myself perhaps I disgusted her 
Oh how the lover usually has that sort of feeling on the beloved 

we were all lucky to survive the testing depths of winter this year

She wears her hair short flicked back behind her ears.
Protruding cheek bones leap out at you as she offers one
and all kindhearted smiles. With a neck as fragile as 
a tree branch resting softly on the forest floor, i spy her
across the library populated by students hooked up
to worn out computers tired from furthering their 
education. Oh what i would give to be an anointed
member of her clan a trusted confidante in her circle
of friends, but alas I am an outcast who is far too awkward.
Lying back relaxed on her broken blue swivel chair
she hums a simple melody on a chair that can't be lowered
due to some moron breaking it. A silent muted
silence hangs in the air as the conversation with her 
friends falters. The love idols mind seems to wander alone
lonely in a far-flung desert of past romances, she turns to
her side and drapes a book of her thin shaved legs.
Intently she peers down at a biology book trying to extract 
every morsel of information from the text for a looming exam.
She has always tried hard to avoid the onslaught of 
boredom and maintain her healthy grades. 
The gift of a person of high intellect like her is their
innate ability to entertain themselves. I laugh to myself
recalling how smarter people have less course 
or desire for physical activity as they have countless 
things they would rather do than kick rugby balls 
or tone their legs. As if in a stupor I wonder who this bedazzling girl
is, do her parents love her? is she an orphan? what things
bring her joy or sorrow?

If she was a coffee she would surely be a short black 
with no milk, strong like a kick from a mule with an exuberant
amount of caffeine. Yes a petite ever satisfying short black
describes this woman perfectly, her hair darker than midnight 
dancing upon a ravens wing in mid-flight. Again the cold windswept 
morning threatens to infiltrate the walls and windows around me
they hiss and shudder like a dying mans body. 
Thankfully Winter has passed and now the flowers blossom and bloom
eager buds open up like a caterpillars cocoons revealing their
beautiful butterfly petals. On reflection we were all lucky to survive the testing depths
of winter this year, many didn't. My meandering thoughts are soon
overcome and my interests suddenly  float back to the work
at hand before my last thought vanishes I think to myself
"why do i bother wasting my time on intellectual pursuits 
when woman are so infinitely more rewarding?"