To hear you say “I love you” is strangely distant to me. I have never once thought that words could be piling up and that my stomach knot itself in distress.
I look past the dawn and see the sunrise on the horizon. You are gone, but I’m still here waiting for you to appear like a shooting star I can wish upon.
I don’t fight in a war, but why do this feels like I am battling? Emotions disrupt my peace and exceeding numerous time from nowhere. I guess I can’t hide them under the rug and call it a day, I can’t utter the words “Please, don’t go,” without feeling lost in silence.
The beating of the heart is spelling out your name, and I have it on my tongue. My mind makes poetry each night before bed, and upon the morning when I wake up, the words of affection still linger on my fingertips.
My typewriter will say it all if you ever care to ask.