Something More

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I know how to love when unreciprocated,
Unrequited.
Abandoned and depraved.
Not that I’m a sadist,
Nor that I chose to.
My heart felt deprived
Of the half life I endure.
Aches I sustain in my bones,
The pain I bear in my being
Would say otherwise.

I know how to love
Even when unloved.
I know how to care
Even when not taken care of.
In love, I know I can find myself.
In love, I know I can be myself.
Yet, in hate,
In the brims of bitterness,
I know I can lose myself,
Entirely. Completely. Wholeheartedly.

If love can hold my universe together,
Would I give it a chance for more?
Do I hate the world or myself more?
Do I intend to lose myself forever more?
Or do I choose to believe love and something more?
Just something more?