I hear your voice,
so close and yet so far.
I dare to pretend you could be mine,
however the truth really is.
I see you smile and I rejoice
for the sun has entered my world.
I hear the lyrics of your songs,
content in listening,
understanding will come soon.
I am found in the music
your hands create.
Oh to feel them create something
that I could feel. . .
More than emotion, more than this.
I revolve in a cycle
of self-doubt and despair,
knowledge that I may never know you
slices through my heart.
In the end I wish for your happiness.
That instead of me by your side,
you will find someone to give you
exactly what you need.
I envision myself near you,
not near enough but close.
I would be content to be,
to exist where you might be.
In the same room,
in the same building,
it wouldn’t matter.
If only I could hear your voice
as you might pass by,
that would be my rapture.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017