You watch me from across the room,
Your eyes, a sea of quiet gloom.
I feel your love, it's always there,
But somehow lost beneath the air.
You speak in ways I can't relate,
Your kindness edged with quiet weight.
I want to tell you who I am,
But fear you'll never understand.
Each word I say falls out of place,
A silent drift, an empty space.
You try to pull me close, I know,
But every step just feels too slow.
You want a daughter you can see,
One who reflects what you could be.
But I'm not that, and never will—
A truth that breaks, a truth that stills.
I wish you'd ask the things I feel,
To know the wounds I try to heal.
But all our talks are shallow, brief,
A fleeting glance, a passing grief.
And so we sit, just side by side,
A canyon growing deep and wide.
I love you, though you cannot see—
The way you love me breaks me,
And keeps me from being free.
