This wasn’t written by me. ┬áIt was written about me by someone who’se an awesome writer.

I try so hard to write your touch,
the way you come like a dream in the dark,
lips tender and eyes half shut.
the way your voice matches
your smile so perfectly,
and how neither is mine.
the way I think you in empty moments
and memories fill my stomach
with a weight between longing and
something less.
And how, if that smile could be mine,
my heart would say yes
and my lips would say
no.

Because my words are not enough
for your portrait
and you
are not enough
for me.