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I don't think it is fair...
I don't think it is fair what you're doing to me here.
You make it like it is all my fault.
I'm just so very sorry that you feel this way.
I suppose that I am probably to blame, though.
There's a lot of confusion here, as well, as to exactly what is happening.
I wish I was stronger, but it just feels so difficult to deal with all of this.
The main thing that matters to me is to just be able to communicate my feeling and emotions to you in relationship to this matter.
I still wonder, at times, how you really feel about me, and...
I realize that I am somewhat like a child, but that's just the way that I am.
I've got more poems in me to write about these ways that I feel, and I think that it is still important for me to express myself.
As of late I haven't been writing as much, but I am working on some stuff here.
There's been some slight pressure here lately, but I'm not trying to make any excuses, though.
I would be foolish to say that everything I try to do here always comes to work out.
Lots of these projects here might remain uncompleted, but this does not mean that they will always be that way.
I tend to think that patience remains the key to it all.
I really wish that I could do better here, but I am still trying in many different ways.
I don't think it is good, though, to silence my voice too much, because then things seem to become ambiguous in ways that cause a certain degree of doubt.
Perhaps you look at me as though I am just lost here, and somewhat of a waste of time these days.
Perhaps you might think to yourself that I've really nothing left to say here that I have not said before.
Sort of like the ones who once went to the library to write, and now only seem to go there to check out the books now.
Or something like that.
Yet, maybe the greatest overall inspiration here was just derived around the thought of you being present in the library with me, whether I was writing or not.
Maybe it was always just the thought of knowing that you were near me that truly meant the most to me.
But I can understand, as well, that sometimes...I may seem like the starlight to you.
What I am really trying to say here is that you mean a great deal to me, and as long as I know that you know this...then I can feel content and at peace.
I actually thought that we were doing quite fine until you acted as though you had no time for me anymore.
Or maybe you just felt as though we were drifting apart.
Well, it doesn't really have to be this way.
And I know that I can do better that I had been doing before.
I want for things to continue, and I do not want to feel alone.
It is with you I want to be, whether a vacant room or among a large crowd of people.
My ultimate praise is within my heart for you.
Words not spoken out loud are continuously spoken inside of my very heart.
And, yes, I still come to view the world like poetry no matter what.
There remains the aspects of poetry within everything I see and do here.
But I am not the one to tell you that I am a poet.
I see poetry, but it is seemingly beyond me.
So I write about how the world is beautifully poetic, and then I fall short when it cimes to expressing it poetically.
So I simply attempt to express myself in ways to show my admiration for what truly IS poetry.
And without a doubt, I know that YOU are the poetry.
I am only the poems.
But I need the poetry to write the poems.
There doesn't have to be a tear in my eye here, but there may always be a reason.
The world is complex but we can make things better when we are together.
To be together, to share our thoughts, and to feel like children.
To feel free, and to know that love is all that truly matters.
I simply cannot afford to say goodbye to you.
I cannot walk away from all things that are beautiful and meaningful to me, for then I will become of nothing other than the fog before the clarity.
These ways of my eyes, these ways of my soul.
I cannot survive within these vacant fields where the truth of my love for you becomes ode to the shadows, the starlight, and the moonlight.
A place where we can never say that it means both the world to us or nothing at all as long as we can bask within the glory of being as one.
I cannot survive when it becomes as though love has become lost like a forgotten song that only plays to remind me.
To lose you, like to lose the days ode to the sunlight.
But with you, your comforts in those ways of saying to me that both mean the world and nothing at all...as long as we are together, as one.
For I remain one of those somewhat like a child, and the awareness that the ones like me can never really change.
Blind me through love but not through the darkness.
Hear me sing in ways slightly out of tune, but please do not walk away from my music.
Please do not silence my soul, for the songs that it sings be these songs meant for you.
These songs that long to remain in playing.
And what I have said be these words from within, as real as both the night and the day.
For this be the truth within these moments of feeling that all that has come to inspire me has deeply hinted upon fleeting.
My love for you, much stronger than any love that could fail you.
For love is the answer to the questions concerning all that is to remain true.
And the truth is the beauty and the promise in knowing that we are of love.
Yes, I am but a poem ode to your poetry...and you are the poet that inspires my words.
And I do not think that it is quite fair for me to say to you that I am lost without you.
But it is more than fair here to tell you that I love you.
