My Poem for Him

5

Somewhere Between

You stand like walls the world can't shake,
too strong to bend, too still to break.
And I, a breeze with hands out wide,
keep reaching for your guarded side.

You never ran, you never stayed,
you left your silence, soft and vague.
And in that space, I tried to grow —
on soil unsure, with sun too low.

I drew you gently, line by line,
a quiet gift, a careful sign.
You touched it once — a heart, a flame,
but never called me by my name.

I asked again — just "when" or "how?"
But nothing came, not then, not now.
You vanished slowly, not in haste,
a fading light I couldn't chase.

You speak in glances, never words,
like thoughts too shy to be observed.
And I — I speak in every hue,
in poems, pictures, drawn for you.

It's not your fault you didn't choose,
not every story wins or moves.
But oh, how cruel the in-between —
not lost, not held, just kept unseen.

I told you once in soft goodnights,
a whisper sent through darkened lights.
You never wrote me back, and yet,
you linger like a small regret.

No blame to give, no wrath to earn,
just lessons love forgot to learn.
And I — I've stayed too long, I know,
hoping for seeds you'll never sow.

So here I stand, a heart grown sore,
still knocking on a silent door.
You didn't leave, but left me still —
a ghost with hope and iron will.