Every night, I lie awake and word out the things I long to say. I touch the memories resting in my heart, piercing my thoughts together into the perfect reflection of what you mean to me.
Lay them out like a practised lecture, but when you're only standing a few feet away from me, they re-shatter spilling over my tongue until nothing comprehensible remains.
Your eyes never seem to suspect a thing, whispering hello the way they always have. When you look at me, I feel happy that you're here, but will I ever get the words past your eyes?














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