I can't

This is how the day went:
With the falling rain against the window,
Streets filled with people running for home,
I lay on my bed, unmoving.
With me unable to write the poem living in my mouth
Because every thought is of you...
Living with all the other dreams in my head.

I can’t seem to remember
How to write love poems.
I don’t remember either
How do I rhyme, nor how do words work.
But I do remember how to write that one poem,
the kind that makes you feel all alone,
Empty, and hopeless.

It wasn’t what I wanted to write, though.
I want to write about hands-
About the gentle touch of fingertips,
Like spring breeze against my cheeks;
I want to write about hair-
Wishing I could smell it, touch it,
And lose myself in it;
I want to write about smile,- yours specifically,-
Taking my breath away
With every passing second that I'd stare.

I also wanted to write about eyes--
And drown myself in it, and peek into it,
As it is said to be the window to one's soul.
But all I ever remember how to write
Was about tears and longing.

My thoughts would run wild if left unattended,
And would drain almost every ounce of energy
Left in me... if there is any.
So, this is how the day ended:
With my body aching, once again,
I stared at the empty space before me,
Drifted back to sleep, and escaped through my dreams.

Because I can't write love poems about you..

---
// Black Flame