Why do all my poems need to be about
You?
Sometimes I wonder what you would say
If you found me here.
Would you know who I was?
Would you remember?

I read over the paintings I wrote of you.
Glittering masterpieces,
The work of one mind.
Again I down another
Poisonous elixir of the mind.
Again the only thing my pen creates
Is the perfect image of my mind:
A perception of what could have--
Nay, should have
Been.
Gone now,
The imaginings of a heart grow
Faster, fuller,
Top heavy and prone to fall
At the slightest touch.

Left alone in the dark,
Anon I wish of you.
A soft touch,
A kind word.
Do you think of me too?
Just please don't say you love me,
I'm too scared to say it back.
Too long
I've been desolate and deprived
Of encouragement.
Too long to trust.
Too long to care.
I would gladly fall into the
Abyss
Of your heart.

Spin me around,
Take my hand,
I don't know how to pretend,
I don't know how to stop pretending,
I love you too much.
And the only one who knows
How deep this love grows
Is Fate.

Would you believe me if I told you?
Would it be the same for you?

I doubt it.

The sparkle of a gem
Is only perceived by those who can
See beauty in rocks.