I didn’t know who I was looking at—
Not at first glance.

I thought maybe you were just another soul
I’d cross paths with,
Someone I’d walk this Earth beside,
But not with.

Never in my wildest dreams
Did I imagine wanting to walk this Earth with you.

Maybe it was your hazel eyes—
Glowing like warm amber veins
Spread across a leather canvas,
Glints of green dancing around your irises
Like sunlight flickering through the forest.

Maybe it was the way your hand felt in mine—
The weight of it,
Not heavy in burden,
But in depth.
A weight that whispered of both love
And long-held sorrow.

When we first met,
I didn’t know who I was dealing with.

I was dealing with a thief—
An unapologetic one.

Because when your lips first met mine,
Something inside me shifted.
Something twisted… came untwined.
A knot I thought would never loosen
Was finally pulled free.

And for the first time in a long time,
I felt love again.

You stole my heart—
Effortlessly,
Unintentionally, perhaps…
But completely.

You became the center of my gravity.
You pulled every bit of focus from within me
And held it like it belonged to you—
Maybe it always did.

Now, all I want
Is to give you everything you’ve been missing:
Love.
Affection.
Gratitude.
Attention.
Appreciation.
Res­pect.

And the quiet safety of being seen.
Fully.
Honestly.
Tenderly.

You, the thief who stole my heart...
Can keep it.

think of all the people you've ever met,
and all the conversations that have ever left an impact on you.
think of all the thoughts that those words prompted in you,
and all the actions they led to,
which went and touched more people than you can count.
innumerable words and thoughts,
little cosmic representations of the
souls of people touching us
every.single.day.
your life is forever and inexplicably interconnected with a million others.

I need to say it.
I need you to hear it.

But the words are locked away,
Voiceless—
Trapped behind a cage
That only truth can unlock.

If I release them,
Will you truly hear?

Will I cradle your heart
With love and care?
Or will it slip through my fingers,
Shatter like glass,
And scatter
Into a million pieces on the floor?

Either way,
The outcome is unknown.

But at least—
At least I showed you my heart.

And that has to count for something.

...
Right?

At the kitchen table,
All alone, after dark:
The pen, the ink, and me.