I Wrote A Poem

I wrote a poem about you.

One you probably won’t read.

Because I don’t have the courage

And it defeats its purpose anyway

But let me tell you it’s long

4-6 pages depending on the font

Of course I want it to look longer

Because it makes us look longer

Like more

It’s all of the moments that stand out:

The ones we’ve shared

And I keep adding on to it

You know

As more happens,

As more time goes by

Speaking of time 

It is a cruel thing,

Isn’t it

The way it has no regard for anything but itself

The way it doesn’t care about you 

Or me

Or anyone

The way it never stops

No matter how much you want it to

But if time isn’t the way it is

Then I wouldn’t have the poem 

I am telling you

About

Because I would probably still be in those moments

The ones that make the poem up

And they would feel so close

I wouldn’t have to write them down

And it is that,

That distance 

That separates our glances

And our conscience

That is why I’m telling you this

I’m sorry I’m only telling you

And not showing you

But poetry is such a weird art form

Where reading it

Can make it lose its hidden magic

And I know it seems secretive

But I swear it isn’t

Because everything that’s in it

Is a moment we have shared

And if you try hard enough

You will remember each one

Because I know you care

Or cared.

Anyway,

If you read that poem

All you will get out of it

Is a thank you.

And probably an apology.