i don't know if I'll call,

dont know you at all,

distant and tall,

tender, i fall,

seasons, they draw.

my birthday is yours,

i'll never sing,

words and thoughts,

they never mean,

probably the best,

in my head,

your head on my chest.

soak the love they left.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

She was like a flower...
but they never noticed
until it was too late

"I reveal myself in layers if I deem you worthy. I peel slowly. I watch your reaction. One small flinch and I seal."

"....replays
                ......what the heart can't delete."