I Didn't Tell Him

What I didn't tell him 

was about the butterflies that fluttered

all the way to my toes and my fingertips

anytime we would breathe the same air.

I didn't tell him

about how I admired the peaceful and poetic way

his breath moved his chest when he slept

and how when he looked at me I could see the future.

What I didn't tell him 

was that I still think about him every day 

when I walk up the stairs,

or lay in a park, 

or drive, 

when my hands gently turn the steering wheel from underneath

just like how he told me not to, 

or how when I kiss someone else somehow I feel his lips on mine, 

how when I close my eyes I can imagine

the warmth he brings just by simply touching my skin.

What I didn't tell him 

was that I didn't forget the beautiful moments

and that I'm sorry for making him think that I did. 

I didn't tell him

that the feelings I have for him are

irreplaceable 

and don't quite know how to fade.

What I didn't tell him 

is that I can remember how

our bodies curved together to sleep in our small twin beds. 

I didn't tell him

that by memory I could trace my finger on a blank canvas

in the shape of his lips, or his nose,

or each eyelash that curled off his eyelid. 

I didn't tell him

that I remember how his skin feels

and how we would sink into each other. 

What I didn't tell him 

is how much I appreciate how he chuckles

when I tell him the most frustrating things about him,

or how we could laugh and be silly,

or how we could be open and cry. 

I didn't tell him

how safe he makes me feel

when he towers over me and devours me in a hug. 

What I didn't tell him 

is that the way I feel about him has no explanation.

He asked me, "Why are you okay with keeping me in your life?"

What I didn't tell him 

is that I don't know, 

but I think that's okay. 

Maybe the answer is only defined with something

bigger than words,

deeper and more eloquent than words. 

I didn't tell him

that hopefully he would feel the answer if he kissed me again. 

We have a connection that drips with honey —

a little bit of a mess but..

sweet, 

self-preserving. 

What I didn't tell him 

is that on nights like this 

when a chill lingers in the air

and every star is out in the sky 

all I can think about is how we shine together —

bright as hell.