Dithering

Holding a pen over a piece of paper on my desk

Wanting to write

But hesitating

Staring at the blank space

Trying to figure out how to start

What words I should first write

So much I want to write out

Yet so afraid

To let the tip of this pen touch the surface of this vast space

Eyes gone teary

Just thinking of the million thoughts

I wanted so much to express

Wondering

Would you ever come find

All these things I'll write

Cause honestly,

Of the hundred papers I've taken and of the thousand strokes of my pen,

The only person I keep imagining would read every word --- is you.