I wrote you a letter, I might never send it,
I put pen to paper, to share my soul,
But my words are trapped, in a deep dark hole.
This letter must go, for I must be heard,
Yet fear holds me back, and my courage blurred.

I scribbled and scratched, detailed my fall,
But my hand holds back where my heart told all.

I tried to write it, with all my heart,
But my hand was weak, it fell apart.
My words are heavy, my message true,
But my hand held back, what my heart knew.

I waxed poetic, I stretched the span,
The height, the depth, far as one can.
I told my love in a million ways,
But while my heart wants to go, my hand stays.

I'm torn in two, heart and hand in strife,
The battle rages, a raging turmoil.
My heart is strong, with all its will,
But my hand holds tight, unmoving still.

If my missive were to somehow reach your hand,
If you read it once, would you understand?
Would you grasp the depths of the feelings I feel?
Would you see and know that my struggle is real?

If my letter reached your hand tonight,
Would you read it, with all your might?
Would you hear my words, and all they say?
Would you understand, in every way?
Or would you scoff, and laugh at me,
And leave my letter, carelessly?

I'm driven distracted, my heart is torn
And I read to myself, first light every morn,
I watch you going about your day,
Free of love's burden, carefree, gay
And I wonder of what import my feelings could be,
To someone who is so infinitely better than me?

My letter remains unsent and unread,
I'll never know, if my feelings were dead.
So I live with this, in quiet despair,
But my heart still loves, beyond compare.
I'll hold this love, deep within my soul,
For though it's not yours, it makes me whole.

A collaboration with @citrus_cordial
© MyrninAsterSnow ©cherinwogu