I’m dying to talk to you.
It doesn’t even matter what we say,
as long I can hear you say anything.
But I can’t.
Confined to the life I live,
a life without you.
As I write this,
I’m torn from either making this poetry or making this nothing but the way I feel.
It’s eating me up inside,
even if it meant we’d just be friends.
I’d at least get to hear your thoughts, hear you living.
But I end up getting neither, and I did say I never learned my lesson.
But tonight, it shows I did.
I hope you’re doing okay.
© Duc Nguyen WordsOnEmptyEars, 2016