Refraction.

When I Speak.

I could listen to him talk all night,
Pleasantly uncomfortable under the gaze
Of his surprisingly bright eyes-
What use would the stars have,
If that was to be?
If only that was a chance I had;
For I am just a speck of dust,
Swept on by- never to be noticed,
Not really. He is one in a million,
Whilst I just blend right in:
Frightened to stand out, but wondering
If I must do so in order to have you.
Can I ever have you?
Am I too quiet? Too polite? Too young
For you to want? Too delicate
For you to hold? Do you even
See me as I see you?
It seems as though you don't,
And somehow I'm not surprised,
Just disappointed and left in longing.
With each conversation, each smile,
My heart knows not whether to melt or freeze?
I cannot resist moving closer,
Although I understand that you're- really-
Not mine to have.
It matters not if I am yours:
You are not mine,
So I will hold my tongue;
I will torture myself and admire from afar,
Unable to look away,
But respecting that- for you-
There is so much on the line.
I cannot be yours;
I wish I was yours...
If only you were mine to hold at night,
If only your words were spoken for me.
You are beautiful.
He is beautiful, and it is so easy
To pretend that he notices me;
That he listens when I speak.