Tell me, is it like they say in stories?
Can they find true love, so young, so pure,
Does he take her  breath away with just a phrase, just a word,
Or ignite a passionate fire with just one touch?
Do they really kiss like the world's about to expire,
Or stare deep into each other's  eyes, feeling nothing but desire?
Do they appreciate their imperfections, believing they are perfect?
So tell me, is it like they stay in stories,
Or am I truly a hopeless romantic?

They bounce around in the midst of my thoughts
Begging to be released out into the open
Where they can resuscitate the flat line
That are our hearts

I stare at him stare at me
Watching waiting, looking, lingering
For me to utter the phrases
That can mend us

My mouth dries up as I try to speak
And again, I say nothing

So as I watch his receding back
All I do is stare
Because of those resounding words inside my head
That are never
Said.