The music plays,
The melody reverberates,
And the melancholy tune
Fills my mind.
The artist sings of
Lust, laughter, and loyalty
And I have trouble relating.

I have always said
And always believed
That I would never see
Or find
Or feel
The love in this world.

But as I sit here,
Notebook in hand,
Music in my ears,
And You in my mind,
I am no longer concerned,
And everything seems
Alright.

I have never been
An emotional person.
I have never been
Filled with a burning desire
To achieve a true passion
Or dreamed
Of something sensational.
I have never fallen
From such a great height
Only to be caught
By surprise.

Yet I can’t help
To think
Of what might be,
Of what could have been.
I can’t help
But think
Of You.

As my vessel lays still,
As my eyes shiver into
Peaceful relaxation,
My mind escapes
To a brighter time
Behind us
When we used to talk
And laugh
And create our own melody.


My mind,
It runs away from me
And plays its own song
Of regret and remorse
For my stupidity,
My hesitation
And misplaced lust.

I have never been
An emotional person
Yet here I am,
Writing out my words,
My torments,
My troubles,
In the most romanticized
Form of art.

I have never been
An emotional person
But I have never been
More
Emotional.