Of course, I think every writer has at least one cliche love poem.
My lips part
I start to speak,
and stutter instead.
The words I almost spoke
held just at the end of my tongue;
just out of reach.
In that moment they felt so right
…so real.
I wonder what he would have said,
if I had spoken them in that split second
when my heart commanded that I do.
Would he have felt it too?
Would he have murmured them back,
just as nervous and shaky as I was?
I feel my eyes tear up,
and I whisper to the wind,
the words I should have said to him.
“I love you.”
