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T. L. Taylor

As I close my eyes at night

you are there;

unbidden, you fill my mind.

Why are you here, what do you want?

You will never be

more than a friend,

perhaps even less.

Your eyes, your words, your face,

they fill me

each and every night:

the last thing I

think of

before slumber

and the night

takes me.

Fear at the thought of you,

yet unable to stop;

Frantically remembering

every word and expression.

Anxiously awaiting

the next frightful moment

I see you

outside my mind.

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