We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

I wanted to write you a poem

but I could not feel the flow

so I watched the sky change

from blue to grey

a spring breeze blew

& dead leaves rallied

in a circular motion

which drew me in & picked

me up for a few seconds

to feel the rays of the sun

oh spring, it’s only just begun.

the ground is brown &

the trees still bare.

I don’t want to care
I  know that we’ve got nothing

left to share, no extra feelings left to spare.

I hope to go where the wind blows,

who knew that meant leaving you behind.

some nights never seem to end,

& I juggle all the words in my head

it’s just
if only
I’d like to share

my heart.

Who knew 2020 would be the year  that we all came to fear?
Locked all inside ,isolated, alone and nowhere to hide..
All we heard is stay inside ..
As we wait to hear ..
There is Nothing more to fear.

I'm sorry that I stole her from you.
Even if your love wasn't true.
I didn't wait my turn,
Instead, I took it from you.
There's a hint of sadness in your eyes.
It was always there, but more disguised.
She needed more than shared taste in music.
I gave her my heart and she doesn't abuse it.
It's nice, for me, finally.
And it will be for you, too, eventually.
She's in a place that's years ahead,
Than finding comfort in boys, in bed.
At least I hope, that my words are true.
Just know I'm sorry. I stole her from you.

I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.