Finally, Can’t Begin to Speak

I see your face and cannot decide what to do,
Locked in your gaze—
I wonder, why you give me that look.
Is there feeling behind it
Os can it be what I’ve dreamed of.
Now I cannot write,
My mind has been purged
Slaughtered and destroyed—
And the only skill I possessed
Can be called an unpolished art.

So much truth in every little word,
And a passion that even you don’t understand.
How can this be?
That will let us part,
With not even a gentle embrace
To remember.

To be lost is only to never be found,
As is forgetting yourself in death—
Tired of the pain I feel,
The inner wants that tear at my heart
Helping me to write these words to you.
But is this love
Or something more to tell...