There's a girl out there
Who in her
Hopes and dreams
Writes to you
Every day with, the wish
One day you, she will
Be able to reach
The one she writes to
She doesn't, know how
To not write to her
Who occupies her
Every thought
Day and night
There are many who
Say love is a tragedy
And maybe she is the
Very tragedy, herself
Her walls built so high
The woman hiding in
The dunes of adolescence
She fears reaching above
Herself
To touch the hand of
The one
She so desperately is
Occupied by
But writing of love is so
Cliched, is she not right
To sketch out her heartache
Heartbreak
Not the butterflies, fireflies
Which sit within her
Unaccustomed to
The body
They lay
Within.

On your (my) mind.

© Sia Jane