Yeah, sometimes the loneliness gets to me...

a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"
asked the unintentionally cruel aunt
like she does every time she visits
too occasionally to explain
the lonely sorrow that is being
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"
the answer is always an awkward mutter
those who truly know me never ask
it's an unvoiced understanding
they know about, but never speak of
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"
the words cut a savage reminder
of all the things I'll never have
a wife, kids, the love that comes with them
all lost to me, as no one wants
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"
a prison sentence pronounced as a question
invisible bars of loneliness between me
and the joy I see everyone else share
half a life of heartache, and half a life to go, as
a romantic asexual