I’m sorry.
My beautiful stanzas,
For not keeping in touch with you.
Somewhere along the way
I abandoned you.
And never wrote back.

I’m sorry.
My sweet verses
I have not forgotten you.
I have only forgotten the feelings in you.
And my heart can't bear to remember.

I’m sorry.
Meaningless Haikus.
I thought I could make some sense out of you.
But I will always be a few words away
from finishing you.

I’m sorry.
Untitled works.
You are amazing.
But I couldn’t give you what you deserved.
I left you raw.
Unpolished.
Unfinished.

I’m sorry.
That I scroll past you.
That I am to forgetful to finish you.
But to proud to erase you.

I’m sorry.
That while you remain
unfinished and unpublished.
I continue giving birth to
New works and
New ideas.

I will finish you one day.
Not today.
Not now.
But someday.
And until that day,

I’m so sorry.

I want all of your dreams to come true.

But not that one about the killer shoe!

I mean the nice ones

You have when you’re awake,

Imagining yourself

In a lovely place,

Doing the things that

Make your heart race.

Across the room,
I mind my own.

You smile.

At once,
I want to write
my heart
out on paper.

I hear the words
before they're spoken,
listening closely
to your glances.

The eyes they speak
a language
all their own;

blue & inviting
as an open sea,
grey as impenetrable stone.

And I look into the depths of your eyes
In search of the truth,
But I can’t read them.
I can’t find anything that makes sense.

I do not know how you feel
Toward me,
Toward us.
So when I look into them,
Gaze into them a little too long,
And you ask me “what? What is it?”
I say “nothing”,
Because I can’t bring my lips to ask
What my eyes wish they could see
And that is: “How do you really feel about me?”