The ink on my yellow notepad is slightly smudged today. You might think someone who writes as much as I do would have a better understanding of how they feel and their emotions, but you would be wrong.
Last night my eyes would not shut
my mind was working overtime
your voice consumed my ears
the thought of you consumed my mind
you would be worth every ounce of effort my body could produce
your words have calmed me and given something to smile about
my lackadaisical approach may have caught up with me
a day late and a buck short once again
once again a lack of self-expression has left me frustrated and in tears
if you could just climb inside my mind
then maybe you would understand
all i can do is smear the ink on my pad because those words are not enough
if i could sing i would sing you the most beautiful song
if i could paint i would paint you the most beautiful painting
all i can offer is what you have got to know
the me that has made you smile and laugh at 4am is all i can offer
i sit here without any power to know if you are ok
i struggle with putting my feelings before yours
i just wish you knew
i just wish your heart trusted mine
i just wish....
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