I'm infatuated with the thought of her. 

Perplexing intellect packaged in a smooth brown exterior.

Yet she looks down as if holding herself inferior.

 She observes through big eyes that speak louder than her voice. 

Eyes that see everything and say nothing.

Even with all that she can see, through those stained eyes 

She still doesn't even see me.

The type of invisibility I despise.

She's kind and sweet - yet she's has a darkness the covers her like a beautiful veil.

 I want to open my heart to her but my soul is so frail.

She writes to me with such transparency in her emotions.

Wearing her heart on her sleeve, but still her authenticity is misconceived.

I know the things she can achieve.

Heights bigger than she can even imagine - possible through her efforts and passion.

I watch her move with compassion.

She's also guarded and reserved.

Often keeping her thoughts and time to herself preserved.

I know her so well.

I am the scent in her smell.

I am the me in her same.

The relation in her relationships.

I see me in her and she in me.

One and the same.



Collection Of Eclectic Poems  From An Introverted Mind.Where stories live. Discover now