I Wonder What Would Happen If He Found Out He Was The Subject Of My Poetry. Maybe I'll Tell Him Before

I wonder what would happen if he found out he was the subject of my poetry. Maybe I'll tell him before he disappears forever... or maybe I'll add that to my list of regrets. Who knows.

~I never meant for it to go this far, but now I am so afraid to lose you even though you're not mine~

-a poem of a new kind

~He must have called me pretty at least 10 times today, and my face flushed every single time. Then again, I wasn't really counting, but the emphasis in his words made me believe it in the moment.~

-a poem of a new kind

~'Ring bell for smile' is all it said. So I rang the bell, because I wanted to see him smile. He sighed and gave me the fakest smile he could muster, which made me laugh. And to the surprise of neither, a real smile followed closely behind the fake one.~

-a poem of a new kind

~In laymans terms, I'm madly in love with you.~

-a poem of a new kind

“I’m not fascinated by people who smile all the time. What I find interesting is the way people look when they are lost in thought, when their face becomes angry or serious, when they bite their lip, the way they glance, the way they look down when they walk, when they are alone and smoking a cigarette, when they smirk, the way they half smile, the way they try and hold back tears, the way when their face says they want to say something but can’t, the way they look at someone they want or love… I love the way people look when they do these things. It’s… beautiful.”

— Clemence Poésy