In silence we sit, there, upon the sofa
with no words to share between us,
none at all. You sit there quietly, but
not so quiet. Huff and puff you do,
but insist upon inquiry that you are fine.

I cry invisible tears, as my soul bleeds
within. Unshed despair wells up, deep
inside, but the flood does not come.
There is that damn I've built, to keep
such things at bay, in hopes that one
day, change will become a shining light.

Desperately, I search, hold out hope and
what not ... to no avail. Is there no love
out there that can prevail? It seems, at
least to me, that this world is devoid of
such creatures that are spoken of in such
lavish tales of knights and queens.

If only I could live in a dream ... then
perhaps your lips would taste as sweet
as the finest wines and your eyes would
melt me at a glance. Then, perhaps, my
soul could spread its wings and fly, into
the open arms of love.

Then, reality catches hold and leaves me
sitting there to realize ... there is nothing
more to love than what I have here in
this small room.

My heart shrinks like a violet in the frost,
as this knowledge grows very stark. In
silence I cry invisible tears, and the pain
I feel deep within screams with no voice.
This is all there is to love, this pain I feel
within me, for there are no true comforting
arms in which to be held.