Literature
My Resting Angel
I like to think of myself as a good person.
A good friend. I do my best to remind my dearest friends that I love them.
I share this openly and shamelessly
Reminding them of their talents, beauty and kind natures.
I point these out openly, Loudly. Even proudly.
But with you? Oh with you. When I just look at you my breath is stolen.
My words lost. I can write a million things, say a million more.
But they would never compare to you.
You're just as beautiful, kind and talented. But these words, I feel I must whisper.
Speak them to you softly.
Cause surely if someone heard. If someone knew.
If someone where just to gaze toward my eyes and hea