sometimes, I sit and think of you, and then perhaps another.
I think of the moments we spent, the times I longed to call you my lover. I feel a deepness in my chest, rising then falling, with every breath. Floating and lingering, like a melancholy chord oh, how sweet it rests.
I've always hoped for courage, I've gained it in all shapes and colors. But the courage I'm missing in my collection, is the courage of love for another.
Professing and Proud, not pawning nor painful. Pliable and Passionate, without polluting a punch.
This courage, pleasant as it sounds, may it one day reach your ears.