It pains me.
I'm eager with sorrow,
like running under water.
How can I always be so close in proximity to you, yet so far away?

It does feel a great divide within my sadness, to the joy I want to provide.

I sit on potential
but I'm gifted
I inch forth with provential standards,
though they could be tighter
lose ends not gathered together,
in seeking wealth of wonder
he stares into the air,
his soul floats out of his body,
some days I never see him walk that way.
Some days I never see him talk so candidly, some days he won't let me be alone,
some days he wants nothing but his phone,
though everyday
he sits on the edge of hope.
Praying for his joyous self
to get weird with lovers notes.

I always wanted to mean more to him.

The sparkle in the side of his eyes,
tells me the tears are just under his lids,
and being at work, I feel powerless to provide him my soft words.

Him.
He.
The King.
Whenever I talk about him,
I surround myself with his movements.
I don't have to force the essence of his heart to move with in my mind, though I feel on the outside looking...