It's growing dark outside
The wind rustles tree branches
And fireflies dance near the ground
The warm summer air soothes my restlessness

I lay down in the grass
With my notebook and pencil in my lap
I've drank too much already
Trying to kill the hours I'm without him
I look at the dark, clear sky
With all the stars and twinkling airplanes
I think, "This would be a wonderful time
For him to call"
My cell phone is close by
But I don't reach to dial his number

Perhaps I am scared
Tonight is so beautiful with the summer air
And a polluted blood stream
I fear that I'll tell him everything
If I hear him now

I would tell him that I miss him
That I really, really miss him
I'd tell him how much I write about him now
Trying to remember him through poetry
Because I've forgotten what we're like in real life

Maybe I'd tell him that he's with me
That he's my night sky
My pencil, my tears, my star
That he is so perfect in my eyes
Like no one else is
And that I want so much
For him to find me pretty
On the inside

But I'm afraid he won't like to be
The twinkle behind the silhouette of trees
And what if I cry?
Which I often do when I write about him
Because I get so frustrated
When I can't find the right words to explain this
Afraid he'll scorn my lack of format

It is completely dark now
And it's difficult to see my paper
From where I sit in the yard
My phone flashes in the grass nearby
And once again I think about calling him
And telling him everything
I've kept to myself

But as my mother turns the porch lights off
I drop my phone and look up at the sky
Praying that it will give him courage
To say something first
Because I know I never will