Words Unsaid

I thought of her as an inspiration

To all the poems and stories I ever created,

Whether in words, or the pictures I painted.

On the pages, I left unfinished and crumpled

Or texts, that were never sent.

Backspaced myself to the starting point.

Blinking away at these words, blinking cursor looking at me like:

"What do you have to say this time?"

Out of all the mysteries, I ever read

She's been the hardest to crack

All the puzzle pieces there,

Yet the picture changes every time she speaks, and I listen.

Maybe it's what keeps her so inciting.

An interest in her, trying to read these hieroglyphs.

Just to know, there's more to her than I can ever see

Yet all I wanna do is take a silent walk with her

Maybe I'll wait for the dawn to arrive

And when the sun finally rises

I'll know then that the time for dreams are over

Yet she stayed and she was finally there.