But he couldn't even look in her eyes
She thought him intriguing
He knew whatever he did
It would be misconstrued
And thought he'd burst into flame
If she ever asked him a question
For the answer would burn like cancer
He thought looking angry or tough
Would let him escape her gaze
But he didn't actually want that result
He wanted everything she did
But he was too shy to know what to do
And never did, letting shyness have victory
Over his need for touch
Over his need for love
For which there never is enough
His shyness was misery
He might seem a mystery
He was just shy, and had no answer
For the questions she never asked
“I was quiet, but I was not blind.”
―
