I tried fixing your heart
and you let me.
Out of kindness, I suppose.
Who knows?
But upon careful examination,
My unfavorable conclusion
Is that your heart’s not broken.
It just doesn’t beat for me.
Someday you’ll realize who pours the coffee when you yawn;
Or who always has a dry sleeve for you to cry on.
Who opens the door when you need a place to crash in;
Who cheers the loudest when you stand up to sing.
In time you will know this poem was for you;
And also this shirt, because I know you love blue.
But until them I am in this precarious state
I hold my heart by a string, awaiting its fate.
I deserve more than your kindness, but kindness will suffice.
When you do figure out where I stand, please be nice.
My love,
My hand quivers as I write this
Because our teacher is attentive
And wishes no distraction.
But how can I not be distracted
When you squint at the board
And I want to read aloud what
You cannot see?
When you soft hair strays
To your face
And all I want to do
Is tuck the strands behind your ear?
When I am waiting
For the bell to toll
So that I could walk behind you
To the canteen
And as I ruminate on how
To end this letter,
I am equally anxious
Of what you will say.
How trivial that my fate
Rests on this airplane-shaped note
And as it soars to you
My heart soars with it.
Make Room for Poetry 