I finish writing and put my pen down.
The paper is filled with words of feelings.
Words that anyone would find hard to say out loud.

I look it over.
The beginning is filled with scribbles.
Crush scribbled out three times,
Like scribbled out twice,
And love once.

Then on the way down the paper those words are finally said.
No more scribbles.
All of the feelings are spilled out.
The feelings about how he makes me laugh
And how he makes me smile.
Everything is said.
Everything is put down that I would love to let out.

I sigh and crumple the paper,
In the trash it goes.
Never having the courage to be given to the one that needs
To hear it.