I don’t like the way you look at me –
Silently judging my inability
To fill you up with strokes of black.
It’s not as if you haven’t seen me try
To struggle with the images that chose to hide
Under dusty layers of foggy memories instead.
Like alluring butterflies that tempt one
Yet evade grasping hands skilfully,
My thoughts seem to mock me.
The unblemished surface of your face
Bears testimony to my failure for all to see.
But no one will ever know that I tried. I really did.