I Told You

I told you.

So many times
So many ways

When I was leaving and couldn't
go without seeing
your face
touching
your arm
meeting
your eyes

Didn't you read it there?
The sonnet I had written
dedicated to you
perhaps it was too small
my fields of hazel
are not wide and innocent

But didn't you hear?
the catch in my voice
I tried to make my goodbye
Cheerful
unaffected
When I was crying

Perhaps my acting was too good

But I was sure you would know
Thought my heart was obvious
always dancing on my sleeve

Thought the tears would show
not stay bottled
lined up perfectly
on the shelves of my soul

How could you not know?

I told you

So many nights like this
Hellos and goodbyes
Each one a telling

Were you not listening?
Should I have shouted?
Given up my attempts to remain calm?

I held it in until I felt I would implode

Should I have let it go?

Perhaps I should let you go

Because I told you

and you didn't want to hear it

This is a rough first draft, but it came all at once, after thinking a bit on someone's comment that girls are not as obvious in our romantic "signals" as we think we are. I find that my poetry is better read, or performed. When I write, I imagine someone speaking the words to me, but I'm not skilled enough to communicate the tone and inflection perfectly.
I think in the end, I am more of a screenwriter, always thinking about how the scene would be acted, how I would read each line, the facial expressions that would go along with it. Maybe someday I will attempt to write a play. But we'll work on the poetry and short stories first.