Schizophrenic Love Poem by Kewayne Wadley

And if he loves her
I love her.
We are one in the same.
Him and me.
This repressed feeling comes alive when least expected.
I know this, because he knows this.
He is my every waking thought when I least expect it.
Only when I am sleep do I really feel alive.
This is when he is alive.
This picture perfect vison of me. Capable of all things I am not.
He despises me because I am me.
She knows this but is unaware of him.
I know her but have no idea who she is.
I am him and he is me.
She thinks its me.
In all honesty I think it's her.
All of his hard work goes unnoticed because it is me.
I am an hindrance.
I am a burden.
I am the pest who refuses to fly out of a capable working door
left open by him.
But welcomed back by her.
I hate her because of him.
She hates him because of her.
She is always there, waiting to see the side of me that loves her best.
This is when he leaves but realizes that he is needed for her to stay.
So she sits and waits. Waiting on him.
I sit waiting on her. Only she does not leave.
She continues to stay.
Unaware of the situation that goes on in my head.
theoretically. All of this is true.
I love her because he loves her.
He hates her because she hates her.
Her name is a cadence, spoken repeatedly in every brain waves that spike.
Unknowing to me.
A seizure that renders me helpless.
This is when he takes advantage.
Bruised muscles, bitten lips.
My memory of her vanishes. Then she appears.
I am the third wheel, only because I allow it.
I have no control over what happens.
To be honest. I have no idea what's going on.
She loves me, then she hates me.
She comes around, then she leaves.
Oddly,
I am caught in the middle of all four of them.
And I have no idea what is going on.
Only that I need her.
And she needs him.