Mentalphorical [Short Poetry]

1️⃣9️⃣2️⃣ Screenplay

You were the spark in my silent skies,
A truth that danced behind my eyes.
A tale unwritten, bold and bright,
A shadow stitched with threads of light.

I held your name in folded dreams,
Between the stars and silver streams.
A whisper caught in winds that roam,
A heartbeat far away from home.

You were the song I dared not sing,
The winter locked inside my spring.
A flame that flickered, soft and shy,
A question never asked of why.

But now the silence starts to break,
The sleeping soul begins to wake.
Your echo calls from deep within,
Where stories ache beneath the skin.

So let me write you, line by line,
In ink that tastes of aged red wine.
With rhymes that rise like morning tide,
And truths no longer forced to hide.

You were the story I was born to tell—
And now, at last, I write you well.