I wrote “It Is Not Fair” in the quiet recoil after realizing how unevenly love can be held between two people. I wanted to trace the small rituals of devotion that no one else sees, the way a heart keeps showing up long after it knows it won’t be met halfway. This poem is my way of sitting inside that imbalance without softening it or looking away.
It Is Not Fair
It is not fair living in love with you.
It is not fair pausing my dreams for you.
It is not fair smiling at a distant star
and whispering your name to the night.
It is not fair sitting alone with your memory,
letting the hours pass, thinking of you.
It is not fair how my heart
learned your rhythm without permission.
It is not fair to be this infatuated,
to need you in every quiet moment,
to watch the world move forward
while I remain here, waiting.
Not fair—to give so much of my soul
to someone who may never know.
No…
not fair at all.
Read Next → Language of Light
Read Next → Language of Light
After I wrote this, I kept circling the same impossible equation: how a heart can show all its work and still fail the test. I wanted this poem to sit with you inside that unfairness, not to fix it, but to say I see the quiet ache of what you gave and didn’t get back.
Read Next → Language of Light
Author’s Note
This poem leans into that raw wish for justice in love, as if the heart were owed a balance sheet it will never receive. We reach for fairness from something wild and asymmetrical, and the hurt lives in that quiet space between what we gave and what the universe ever promised us back.
