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Heart beating fast.

Memories of failures past.

Will I simply fail.

Or will I hopefully prevail.


The same question haunts me

The future, a scary open sea.

What will happen, I do not know.

But to fail to try is the foe.


And so I approach where she stands.

Her hair. Beautiful eyes. Soft hands.

My words freeze in my throat.

How can my words even begin to note


Her perfection. Her imperfection.

Both of which I love. Both of which have won my affection.

But at the end of the hour. At the end of the day.

I could use all the poetry in the world to simply say.


” I like you far more than just a friend.”