Under my sleeves, where melodies hide,
The ones I long to sing but fear you’d drift aside.
For I don’t hold the map to your story —
Or know if someone’s already resting by your heart’s territory.
Oh... I don’t dare let the truth unfold,
Because each time I imagine you in another’s hold,
It cuts me slow — a silent bleed within,
A wound that echoes where you’ve never been.
But look at you —
Those eyes that speak louder than any tune,
That smile of yours,
It does things to my trembling core.
And your strides —
They tell stories I’ve yet to know,
Each pace a chapter I long to borrow.
Still, let it stay this way.
I won’t name it; I might make it fade.
Don’t say a word — nor will I,
For your eyes already reply.
I’ll wait again, and yet again,
Even for a fleeting second’s grace,
Just to catch your gaze.
Nov 1, 2025
Nov 1, 2025 at 7:52 AM UTC
Under my sleeves, where melodies hide,
The ones I long to sing but fear you’d drift aside.
For I don’t hold the map to your story —
Or know if someone’s already resting by your heart’s territory.
Oh... I don’t dare let the truth unfold,
Because each time I imagine you in another’s hold,
It cuts me slow — a silent bleed within,
A wound that echoes where you’ve never been.
But look at you —
Those eyes that speak louder than any tune,
That smile of yours,
It does things to my trembling core.
And your strides —
They tell stories I’ve yet to know,
Each pace a chapter I long to borrow.
Still, let it stay this way.
I won’t name it; I might make it fade.
Don’t say a word — nor will I,
For your eyes already reply.
I’ll wait again, and yet again,
Even for a fleeting second’s grace,
Just to catch your gaze.