Like the first bloom

of Spring,

Is delicate to touch,

And exquisitely beautiful.


Brings two hearts,

Though they may be miles away,

Closer to each other.


Can brighten up

Even the sunniest day

With its pure light.


Does not lessen pain -

It divides it between two hearts -

Sharing the burden together.

My Words

Though the words I speak

May never reach your ears,

And the love I feel

May never touch your heart,

It will not stop me from

Loving you with all I am,

And repeating those words to myself

Until they reach your ears.

My love is pure,

But it is not flawless.

I am prone to jealousy,

I am prone to insecurity,

I am prone to hopelessness.

But even though I may sometimes

Say I hate you,

I always hope that

You'll love me as much as I love you.


I speak the words

of a silent sonnet,

Singing the melody

of a broken heart.

I have never known

This consuming passion,

That sets my heart ablaze,

With such a clarity.

Even though I barely know you,

My heart whispers your name

When I sleep,

And my arms ache to hold you.

I think I may be in love.


When you speak,

Of Russian literature,

I always want to hear more,

Of Pushkin and Dostoyevsky.

When you speak,

Of musicians like Epica, or Within Temptation,

I always want to sing for you,

To sing my heart's song to you.

I have dreams,

That I think you'd like.

Dreams of beauty, and everlasting music.

Dreams of laughter, life, and love.

I wish I knew you better,

To have you become my muse.

I long to sit with you,

Reciting sappy old poems and being in love.