Faceless

There’s something quite unique about walking through a crowd- be it outside, in a building, in a mob- and not know whether or not there is someone in that crowd that you have fallen madly in love with. I live that; every day I live that. It’s both the most exciting and the most horrible thing I have ever experienced. Perhaps the worst part is that I refuse to give it up, because it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.

And so I fell for the faceless man,

In a tranquil state of good.

Always hoping for the day he might pass my eyes,

But better knowing in a sense forbid.

                Every day I wrote to him, never anything in particular. Usually, it was just about my day or an interesting story from the night before. It was always so weird. I felt like I knew him, but in reality I wasn’t even close.

Letter by character, piece by harmony,

I poured the depths of myself in every passing note.

Telling my secrets, along with my hopes,

And him, doing the same.

                I couldn’t help but fall for the features of a faceless man. I knew his every detail perfectly, even though I’d never seen his structure. I had every part of him thought up in my head, purely from his writing. In my eyes, he was beautiful.

I prayed each moment that one day the words would be too much

And I might meet him pleasantly.

But part of me always knew

That it was not a possibility.

                We could never be, I knew that from the beginning. I just always had a blind hope that we could one day meet eyes. The hope was death in my position. I had to accept things would not be like a dream. Even now, I feel its spiteful burn.

 So I moved forward with a broken soul,

Not feeling kindly.

I’ll always love the faceless man

Who sought my better good.