Max was sat in his hotel room. He was sprawled on his king size bed with a few scraps of paper spread in front of him, thinking about his situation.

There was this girl that he liked. He liked her very much, in fact. He could almost go as far as to say he loved her, but he didn’t know how to tell her.

She had been talking to him earlier about poetry and how she would love to hear some of his works and so he had been writing. Writing about her. He cast his gaze down to the piece of paper in his hand.

It read:

My love for you burns like the sun above.
You warm my heart and fill my days with much happiness.
I long to see you when you are not here, my arms ache to hold you.
Yet I dare not even utter one single word of love to you, for fear of rejection clouds my eyes with tears.
You are my moon and my stars; you are the face that I see when I’m sad.
Yours are the hands that dry my tears, yet my mouth dare not even tell you how much you are loved.
Curse my selfish heart for you are the only thing that matters.