I want to write you
of course I do,
every day I’d like to share
my state of mind,
but I’m more hesitant now,
its aging consequence
prevents the freedom
we once allowed ourselves.
I sit and stew,
think about my night,
what should I write,
why do I spend all of my time
trying to justify my love
when it’s all in vain,
the magic disappeared,
but somehow deep inside,
I can still feel it.
So I write the letters
and I look for you,
hoping someway I might know.
And I wonder
do they all sound the same,
am I that predictable,
or does each letter contain a nugget,
some reason to go further,
explore what’s new
in the state of mind
of the writer,
and how close to the reader
can I become tonight.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 