Cestrum

I started writing poems after I met you. 

That much is a lie but I'd like to think it true.

I sleeplessly watched the moon while waiting,

For the post-midnight sign that of me you were thinking.

All the words on the dictionary would have seemed taken,

As your speech would constantly render mine sunken.

And of the moments we talked, some days I remember.

From goodbye in that month to hello in December.

These violet rimmed eyes I keep trying to fix,

Yet cannot for I’m hanging on a thread I did nix

Back when I was unready and ran filled with fright.

But just now, once more, you’ve kept me up at night.