That we even met was against all odds, despite my name being there in the trees in the town where you lived. You drove by my name for years — “It’s a sign!” — but now the trees are dead, and will soon be gone.

I swear to myself I’ll be picky in chasing the new love of my life, swear to myself that next time I won’t compromise on my needs. I’ve been doing somersaults to just get you to want me; it’s backbreaking work, and I’d like to be done now.

It hurts to not feel wanted by the person who says they love you.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: against all odds, picky, and somersaults.

_{Photo by Mehdi Mirzaie on Unsplash}