I want to tell you our story.
I want you to see it.
I want you hear it.
I want you to taste it, touch it, sense it.

I want you to feel what I feel.
Feel the happiness, the love
but also the pain and agony you've given me.

I want to tell you this story because you have no idea, because I've never told you how I feel.

I've left whatever our story could have been- Unwritten.

So much it wants to say,
so much it wants to speak.
My inflexible tongue,
useless and weak.
like blank pages
it ***** and flutters.
as if so much
it wants to utter.
It invites me to
explore and scroll.
I need a pen for
my unwritten soul.

The ink spills on the page
and I know
these words are hard to come by
Pooling to the rim
my unwritten words lay
unable to keep on the page
unable to say to you
what must be heard
The wind picks up
calling out my fears
I will never know where you are
or If my name
holds any purpose
in your world
or mine
The ink falls over the page
and so do I

I guess this is goodbye.