• It probably would have been more fitting
    For me to keep quiet.
    It would have been less painful
    For me to have kept as far away from you as possible.
    And when you looked at me and said, “I love you”
    I probably should have turned on my heel.

    But I didn’t.
    I couldn’t.
    And In that moment that you gave your heart to me,
    I was frozen.
    So I didn’t move.
    I didn’t talk.
    And so you walked away
    Leaving me helpless.

    So every morning
    Before anyone awoke
    I slipped a letter under your door.

    The next morning, when you hadn’t replied
    I did so again. In the exact same manner.

    And then, the next week, when you hadn’t replied
    I had given you more letters.

    After a while I wondered.

    Could you be keeping my letters?
    Did you just watch them pile up?
    What did you do about my diaries which I had been sending?

    Or did you simply put them away, lock them in a box, and then walk away?
    Did you know how much I meant each word of each letter? How each word on each paper came with a tear shed?

    And did you know that, no matter how many times you would meet my eyes
    Only to look away
    That I never took my eyes off of your face?

    And in that box
    Where you keep my jumbled mess of a heart-ache
    Each letter
    Calls you every night.
    But because of the lock, between my heart and yours,
    You cannot hear them.

    Open the box. Take out the letters. Open your heart. And listen to it.