gone fishing...

"Ever wonder about the games people play?they come, they go, they leave, they stay...someone please tell them, make up their minds...and please open their eyes and take off those blinds..." - anonymous

he loves me, he loves me not...
i'd ask her out, i'd ask her not...
there are no plans, there are no plots...
no point in trying to connect the dots

they convince themselves, they're in it for the fun
play hide and seek, when it feels like hit and run...

let's name a trip...say... fishing...
the thrill of not knowing what he's catching...
whether it's big, whether it's small...
whether he'll ever catch anything at all...

sometimes he'll see one fish take a peek
his efforts are not after all, that bleak...
he puts his energies into luring it in...
clearly a pursuit he can actually win...

hook the tasty bait... then patiently, quietly wait...

after long hours, suddenly, unexpectedly...a bite...
he reels it in...with all his might...
for the fish, there's really no hope in sight...
even when it tries to put up a good fight...

say you're the fish...he picks you up and then...
unhooks you...studies you in every way he can...

he might take you home, and try to taste you...
he might decide to stuff you...picture you on his wall...and mount you...
to display what's his, a catch so fresh, so new...

if you're lucky, if he's smart...that's what it will be...
but sometimes he might choose to unhook you and set you free...
and you're drawn to him for doing so...
like an awestruck mermaid refusing to go...

you wait for him every morning at the same spot...
you watch for his lure, his bait... until you rot...

you don't care for the others who try to entice you...
you swim around in circles, one too many, one too few...

from afar he actually watches as you await his return...
he enjoys that you look for him, your need so severe, so stern...
he basks in delight as you struggle in trance...
it's all about him and he loves this kind of dance...

right foot in, right foot out...
all he does is shake you all about...

he won't fish you out again...
even when he actually can...

you wish for the impossible...
to be fished out and conquer all...

you know you'll die out of the water...
and he will never really bother...
to try and leave all he has known on land...
to join you, and give you his heart, his hand...

you're left hoping...still wishing...still waiting...
and while you believe and feel there may be something...
to him, it's really nothing...in fact...
he's just gone fishing...