Your smile is a work of art that makes the best artists jealous,
And it makes me sad that you don't do it more often.
Many have tried to recreate it,
But few have seen it and they could never hope to capture its perfection.
You're always on my mind,
But so is the thought that this will never work.
It seems that our tongues are made of glass and it makes us both too scared to speak.
Your silence is speaking louder than your words ever did.
And you only want to speak when you're sad or overwhelmed by a lust you call love.
You claim you want to say those three words,
But they have lost their meaning after being spoken to so many.
I finally knew something was wrong when at 11:11 I wished for your happiness instead of my own.
I hope you find peace,
But it can't be at the cost of mine.
The few words you say to me are not said to me alone, but many more with pieces of your heart.
You claim to love so many,
But darling, that's not love.
You cling on to anyone that could possibly care about you,
And say your heart is theirs.
All you want is someone to want you,
And you have several lining up.
You tell them what they want to hear,
Then toss them away as if they are nothing.
You won't be able to find love
Until you love yourself
And realize that want is not the same.
I have come to expect your silence but I can't bring myself to accept it, and that's what will kill me.
I keep telling myself this is goodbye,
But I can't seem to let go.
And I would call this the story of us, but there never really was an us, was there?
{m.w.}
