I wrote paragraphs looking to find ways
to explain why I write about this (you).

I found my way treading lightly
along the edges of truth and fiction;
just like my stories.
It’s not easy to tell the world when
you’re brimming with words about something
you’re almost afraid to share.
The fear of loss exceeds the joy of telling,
like being afraid to tell someone about the last chocolate in the jar you saved for Monday evenings or rainy days.

So, I would like to tell my audience to give up.
Stop reading between the lines.
I don’t write for anyone.
I don’t write for you.
I write for my dreams.
I write for the person I placed in
Houses,
Darks rooms,
And hearts.

Your naïve eyes won’t find the songs I hide in poems.
That is why we shut our eyes when we sing.
We only find our real audience behind the curtains,
Waiting to run into us backstage.