I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.

your eyes still look familiar
but the looks they give me now are foreign

for the last time
let me be a child again
as i cry over the innocence
that i will lose
once these tears have dried

"You're really good at poetry!"

*"ha, I'm good at romanticizing toxic situations"

I can hear you crying through the walls,
the muffled, choking of your feelings.
you're falling apart before my very soul,
and all I can do is knock on your door.

the tides are turning
the seasons are changing
you have carried weight on your shoulders
far too heavy for anyone so young
and the world is spinning
like windmills in the sky
or the arrows of the compass in your hand

but never fret
you are never on your own
when the sky watches over you
and the clouds walk above you
the moon is in awe of your stories
and the sun comes out every morning
to shine on you
the breeze sings a song
for your ears only

and you are never on your own
when the world itself is alive
inside of you.