Dear stranger
It is the same day, I haven't been able to sleep again.
I've been wondering all this time, why you looked at me that way?
Was it recognition I saw, or just a tinge of annoyance upon having to come across the same stranger, I know not,
Had I stayed, would you have talked to me?
Had I stayed, would you have still be looking at me the same?
Questions haunt me all night, and I know sleep won't be coming tonight.
I bleed on my canvas the color or your eyes, about how black and hooded they looked under the starry night.
I wonder if I'll ever know the softness of your hair and I wonder if I'll ever know the color of your soul, for thoughts of you have kept me up all night, seems like from the beginning of time.
I wonder why I wonder so much of you.
