loyd.net

Your shyness makes me the one
Afraid to speak
(Lest I distrub you),
Until I am unable to utter
The barest of greetings.

The more I wish to learn of you
The further I retreat.
The resulting distance between us grows
But merely makes you seem more mysterious.

I wonder if you struggle, too,
And do not speak to me
Because you are just as fascinated,
Just as afraid.

I suspect that, at best,
I annoy you —
It is more likely, though,
That you never notice me.

Your quiet forms a void
Which I fill with songs of my own devising,
Songs likely to turn discordant
Were you to break your silence.

My ignorance of you
Forms a blank slate
Upon which I sketch my dreams,
Only for time and reality
To erase.

A little knowledge I'd hoped I'd be spared this Mementos