Up til now

I’ve shared my feelings for you

To no one

Except one piece

Of scratch paper

During lecture

Which I tore up


My dreams

Some nights

Which I don’t tear up

But piece back together

Every morning

Crushing my eyelids tighter

Pushing your face

Back into my head.
Only to that ripped paper,

And those mended dreams

Have I whispered

My feelings for you
Except now.

To the cold air.

To the door you left.

And this poem.

It grows.