Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
However
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.

To be with you this evening,
   rarest of the evenings all,
And listen to the whispering leaves
   and to the night bird's call
The silvery moonlight on your face—
To be with you in some still place.

To be with you somewhere within
   this evening's mystic shade,
To hear your plans and hopes
   and tell you mine, all unafraid
That you'd forget to hold them dear,
When I'm away and you're not here.

To be somewhere alone with you
   and watch the myriad stars,
Far golden worlds beyond the noisy
   earth's unkindly jars.
As quietly they sail night's sea
Above the world and you and me.

Over time I've realized I'm the type of person who can draw anyone in
Mysterious, yet comforting to be around
An altruistic listener, an effective conversationalist, a trusted confidant
Modest as I may be, I do understand where I stand with most people
I'm the person you call when you're having a bad day, or need a ride, or even to bask in the glory of your successes;
a promotion at work, a new fling
I'm that person
The person to go to with your something;
your need, or your news
Intriguing from afar
Many want to delve into the depths
Uncover the story within
Until they realize that there's more
There's always more
Like a black hole pulling you in
Only to find that it's expanse goes on indefinitely
After a while my quips, my quirks
become exhausting
To others
No one can fathom traveling the distance
So they don't
They turn back
I willingly release them
of my gravitational pull
Then we both float on
In opposing directions
It's funny how one can be too much
Yet somehow, never enough

I got asked about you today.
I didn't know what to say.
Feet glued to the floor.
Eyes watered up.
Each time I opened my mouth to speak, I chocked on my words.
My lungs no longer knew how to breathe.
I panicked.
Trying not to burst into tears.
I'm asked if I'm okay.
I mumble out, "Yes."
But we all knew that was a lie.
You could see I'm a total wreck.
But who is all to blame?
Myself.

I'm sorry.

He walks all the way
On busy and lonely roads to reach her
As he passes by her house
He looks up once
wishing he could see her through the window sill
at least her silhouette formed behind the window curtain
and she pulls her tender hair strands falling in front of her lovely deep eyes
where lay secrets deeper and darker than the mysterious sea
and tucks them behind her ears

but in real life, the illusions are shattered
The Young Man, he sees nothing but a closed window
he goes back walking home silently in dismay

but the yearning desire to see her for one more time never dies within
So, he looks back once again.

There is always hope that lies inside of him
burning like a fire that never goes out, the eternal flame
such is the kind of love he has towards her
which makes him walk all over again to her
every single day, longing to see her for one last time.