Your eyes look like they belong to an angel and your smile painted straight from its face.
I wonder when you talk to me, where are your wings?
You were always in the background and I wonder how you ever passed me by.
So quiet because once you strike someone, your entirety speaks so loud.
Way out of my league so I force myself to look away.
Walk away.
Don't fall.
You won't catch me.
But the fall might be worth it so I let go.
You might be worth it.
Your beauty devours me and your voice is like a melody that I can never forget, on repeat to my ears and I'll never unhear the sound.
He's so lucky.
Does he know?
Do you know?
You have no idea.
You know that you're worth it.
You just don't know how much.
And I wish I could show you.
But it's not my place to try.
I don't even know you.
I barely know your name.
And yet all I want to do is sit and learn your story.
But what does it matter when it won't change a thing?
Hopeful and wishful become one and the same.
And you'll continue to twist the words from my mind and onto this page.
Until the ink runs dry.