nothing would make me happier than to hold your hand for the rest of our lives grow old with you and watch our grandchildren play under the magnolia trees in the summer sun.
The tears I shed for you, all one by one, Are more precious than moon or sun. I hope they come alive at Judgment Day, So they will intercede, before it's done.
You are my unsent message. The cursor blinking rhythmically, With my heartbeat, Waiting, For me to hit send. But I am not ready, And I’m not sure if I ever will be So I left it like that. Unsent. Unseen. Unread. “I miss you.”