Dear diary,

He asked me, ” What’s in that head of yours?”

I looked up, and I am loss for words.

He stared and said, ” What do you want to say?”

I stared and smiled, “Nothing”.

So he looks away,

As I look at his face

Little does he know

I measured every stance he took

Every little sip

His questions calculated

In my head I had all the words;

Just he failed to see

His questions were all he knew

He saw what he needed to see

Weighed me out like a book

Never to know

The emotions that his words didn’t show.

As I sip my coffee slow.

So Dear diary,

I write this to you

For the questions I answered

I shall address them to you.

What’s in my head you ask?

Million things and nothing

If I told you I was sad

Then the smile I had

Would have made you mad

That I fake semblance for a dying day

When all I had was a million things to say.

What do I want to say?

If I told you to take your hand

Or leave?

Tell you let’s take a chance

Would it change the countenance I had

Of how comfortable it all was

That the days are just days

But I break in every way.

Would that answer your questions?

Answers you don’t want to hear

Answers that will go nowhere

Answers to an uneven day.

So instead I smile

Talk for awhile

Let the day play out

As the bill arrives

Now dearest love,

In the spirit of it all

For a  wordsmith to have no words

Is an ironic tale

Where she sits and smiles

And words fail.

Her mouth opens and lips work

All just turns to “small talk”.

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