If I was to send you every poem I have ever written about you, would you read them?

All of my questions, musings, and feelings would be free for your interpretation.
Each word, each twinge of my heart, would be available for scrutiny.

Part of me thinks it would solve my dilemma — my dilemma being that this is harder than anticipated.
If only you knew, I’ve thought, then I’d have clarity, somehow.
Clarity on what? I’m not sure.

I don’t expect you to change your feelings, but if, for some reason, you felt the same,
maybe, maybe we could work something out.

This is a pipe-dream, I know. We split for reasons that don’t fall into the traditional categories.
We are an enigma.

But, I like the hypotheticals.
It’s ironic, I lean towards the warmth of imaginary situations and shiver in the present coldness.

One day, I’ll learn to create my own fire, but today, I sit within the flames built by dreams.