Between My Lines

I can never,
Being myself,
Write poems for you
Because you're too
Beautiful for words
To describe
And I love you more
Than every page
In your favorite book series
And I'll be here
Every single day that
The moon falls
And the sun pokes
It's burning head up,
Even though you hide
From her rays
Under your covers
And I hope, one day,
You read between the lines
Of my scribbled sentences
And realize that
All this time
I've been in love
With you,
The girl with artist hands
And an old soul