I am not a writer

My words are not inspired by you.

They are for you.

You are even better than the best my imagination can ever conjure, and I wish to immortalize the man who shook my world in these words. I agonized over my vocabulary so inadequate to fully capture your worth, while you at the other end  wondering if I were merely paying lip service just because I express myself more eloquently than the average can. 

My sweetheart, I wish to clarify your doubts and kiss away your hurt. But I’m not brave enough to fall in love with yet another person the other side of earth. What’s the point of trying to be closer if “we” are not going to work? I hid my deepest feelings in those poems, those that slipped out they’re yours to hear. 

I meant every single word I every said or written, it’s just that you won’t be able to get the full picture – when half of them are buried in dirt.

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