Your gateway to endless inspiration
I love you, and I think you love me.
But that's how far it gets, so I put it in poetry.
I write about you sometimes.
Hide my truth within similes, metaphors, and rhymes.
Of hushed conversations in a crowded place
Memorizing each thing so I can later retrace.
You ask me how I feel when I'm with you.
Like I'm in a cellophane bubble of a soft pink hue,
La vie en Rose
A dopamine doze
You ask me what I think of you.
Words to which I wish I knew
Universe pulled a few invisible strings,
Put you in my life to change everything.
We stand inches close yet light years away.
Cliche!
We stay long enough to touch, not enough to hold
The world is unfair, or so I'm told.
So I pretend your smile doesn't put me in slumber.
Memorize lines on your hand as one would with numbers.
You ask me why I hold back. I say I'm scared.
What I hold back is what I'm scared of:
It's not being unable to find the right words for what I feel
It's being able to say the right words and never heal.
I love you, but I don't tell.
I try to show you, like casting a gentle spell.
Through metaphors and rhymes
And words that were written by dead poets sometimes.