The Hole In My Heart

Just a quick poem for someone who used to be special to me. I guess I just lost hope.

What kind of person would confess to any kind of feeling?

How could they stress how much they want to explode like a volcano,

Or drown in the sea, or dance like a rose in the wind.

Or perhaps just stand still as an oak tree?

I'm not that kind of person, or so I thought. Because when I was growing up,

I taught myself that you can't express yourself and that feeling,

Is nothing more that a small pinch on your skin to remind you you're still human.

When I was growing up I stayed quiet and hid from the world,

I didn't open my mouth and let the colour of my mind plague society.

I had so much to give, yet so little I was allowing to escape.

My emotions, feelings and imagination were my own personal prison.

Each day and night passed me by and every time I looked out the window,

I wouldn't even try to expose myself to what everyone else bathed in.

Seeing people come and go, they're all watching time pass them by,

And when it does it goes slow.

But for me the days were one after the other.

Just routine, simple steps to a dance that I didn't want to be a part of.

Nothing could fill the hole in my heart.

Until you.

It was all so sudden and yet so slow.

For the first time I felt that feeling.

The feeling of believing that you're walking on air.

The feeling that the sun has risen just for you.

The feeling that nothing else in the world matters because all I can see is you.

It's as if I was blind and then you shone light into my eyes, now I see.

As if I was deaf and you sang to me, now I can hear.

All my senses kicked into overdrive whenever you were close.

And maybe that's a little weird.

But it's okay, sometimes I got the feeling you like weird.

You had no idea so let me clue you in.

To me you were a breeze.

Whenever you would roll up toward me my hairs stood on end.

I could feel your presence softly sweeping up my arms and around my face.

And that breeze would slightly tickle, but then I'd feel the cool comfort from you.

Too soppy? How about this.

You were my music, my art.

You knew how much I loved my music.

You knew how much I treasured my art.

I was over the moon on stage or behind the canvas but only you.

Only you could fill that little hole in my heart.

The exhilarating feeling of my breath being short,

Of hearing your voice like a thousand screams filling an arena,

No stage in the world could compare to the lights in your eyes,

The sound of your voice.

When an artist paints he always wants the perfect image.

He wants the world to see how beautiful even the most flawed object was.

We were the same except for one detail.

To me you were flawless.

I didn't need to repaint over and over again because my perfect image was right in front of me.

But no amount of attempts on this canvas could possibly compare to you.

Your cheeks, your eyes, your lips and your smile.

I could spend until the end of forever talking about your smile.

About how it brought light to my darkened soul,

Or how it could make an entire day worth all my regular trials.

And yet while I felt all this, what were you to yourself?

You always seemed to think the same as I used to.

That you're not worth the time of day,

Every time we talked you would always say at least once,

"I can't" or "I don't think I could",

And yet I would always say no.

You are worth everything,

Even if you think you amount to nothing to everyone else.

You are the whole wide world for me.

Because I loved every single thing about you.

The good and the bad.

When you lost your temper I wanted to hold your hand and stay with you.

When you were sad I wanted to wrap my arms around you and never let go.

Because I know that you don't see yourself the way I do.

So I tried everyday to paint that picture for you.

You filled the hole in my heart,

But only for a while.

Soon I couldn't find those feelings.

I couldn't see that smile.

The world became cold and bleak once again.

It was hard to think, hard to breathe.

I couldn't focus or see my way.

It was like being encased in concrete.

Unable to move, unable to act.

All I could do is think.

Every time a tear rolled down my cheek,

I could never feel it.

But it wasn't your fault, it was mine.

It was my doing when I decided to draw a line and tell myself,

"Don't go any further".

Whenever we would talk, laugh or just sit awkwardly in silence,

I couldn't risk you knowing how much I wanted to be with you.

It wasn't because of you.

It wasn't because of others.

It was me.

I was just so scared, that I wouldn't be enough.

I wanted to be everything you hoped for in another person.

So badly.

But what if my best just wasn't enough for you?

I couldn't stand the thought of being second best.

I led myself to believe I wasn't good enough for you,

So I never took the chance.

I'm sorry.