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...