TO A FRIEND IN PRIVATE

Standard

Standing outside your door,
Thinking of you,
Of how you were once
Too afraid to even touch me,
Of how I’ve always been afraid
To ever let myself touch you,
To love you.

And I’m outside,
Where the crook of the moon
Hangs just low enough to cut.
Inside, safe from me,
The candle cries pearl tears,
Its weak light painting
Broken angels across the oak floor.

Unsaid whispers fill a room,
Leaving nothing left to say–
You can’t save me,
Can’t even make me stay.
In your little world,
You sit alone and count
The stars you never hold.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s