I,
Have never written a poem knowing the person I wrote it about would be the first to read it.
I,
Promised myself that when the day came that a guy would ask me to write about him that I wouldn't.
I,
Said no when you asked. Not to uphold my promise like I told you, but because I don't know if I can put you into words.
I,
Have tired. Trust me.
I,
Compared you to the ocean, the sky, and the things in between.

It wasn't good enough.

Delete.

I,
Used the sweetest words my heart could find.

They were inadequate.

Delete.

I,
Filled pages, upon pages of words that could be used to describe you. But the list became far too long and I wasn't anywhere near done.

Delete.

Do you see my issue?

I,
Even hate this poem.
I,
Still can't find the right words.

But the second I do...

I,
Will put them on a page and send it to you.