The cold gray,
I can see it in my headlights.
Know when I show up,
they'll be asking if I feel alright.
Do I lie?
I was never very good at it,
but then again,
you'd have to know me.
So understand that when he asks me,
I look right in his eyes
and want to fall at his feet.
This simple boy,
he has no idea.
His brown eyes have been on me
and it's starting to add up.
I still couldn't tell you
what the feeling is.
It's something so simple.
So pure.
So selfless.
How can I simultaneously want to take care of him,
and melt under his gaze
like I'm fourteen again?
He says he likes when he sees me smile.
I said it's rare and that's probably why.
He agreed, but what he doesn't know,
that when I do,
he's the reason why.
There's something about feelings unspoken
that connects two people
more than a kiss could.
Who knows what he's thinking
when he raises his eyebrows?
It could be about me,
but I'll never find out.
And isn't that the fun of it?
Kinetic energy is nothing
when the potential is
what's making it.
So I can tell him that I don't write about him.
But he knows I do.
I'm terrible at hiding it.
But it's ok cause there's nothing to hide,
I mean,
if you asked I still wouldn't
know how to explain.
Or what I'm explaining.
Let's just not overthink it.
YOU ARE READING
The Tempest Collection
PoetryIt's icy and suddenly it's my job to clean it up. Good thing I sort of know what I'm doing now.