DEAR DIARY
8:12 PM
Who can really understand what love truly is?
The piqued curiousity, anticipation to uncover new grounds?
The electric sizzle when eyes meet, skin brushes, hands touch?
The constant notebook doodles, you+me=forever?
The sweetness of a surprise, with the warmth that it brings?
The wait for a ring on the phone, a longing for a text?
The someone to cry on, someone to rely on?
The unspoken words, that still resound in silence?
The comfort of knowledge, getting used to each other?
The meeting of hearts, both melted to one?
The unconditional sacrifice, unwavering hope?
So who really understands what love truly is?
I guess not me, not you, but just one too few.
-
We stare through the glass,
Pure, untainted, silent recognition.
When words don't deliver, actions do.
Passing you now, we're a step further.
Your hair is long, your face still gaunt.
Your voice, an unfamiliar hoarse whisper.
But your scent still lingers, a part of a memory.
-
You show up, with sweets and treats.
Comfort and laughter, courage you muster.
My eyes, stealing a glance, you.
Passing you now, we're a step closer.
Our dreams converge, for a second, you're here.
But maybe one day, you'll leave without a sound.
-
When the path diverges,
Where do i head?
I just sit and wait, sit and wait.
Waiting for you, to pull me down your path.
