Hostel Breakfast

Your golden hair and pale blue eyelids

Make me feel like I might go wild

Cheetah print make me a liar

So I just tell you that I like you for your smile

~ Dead Inside by Younger Hunger

This song makes me remember all the times I’ve admired a woman, thought up all these things to say to her to express what she makes me feel…

And then I procrastinate, put it off, I’ll do it when…

And then she’s gone, and I’ve said nothing, never to see her again.

Because I’m scared.

Scared of what? Of rejection? That she won’t feel the same? That she’ll think I’m a creep or a sleaze?

Yeah, all of the above.

But what does it matter. So many guys do it with the worst of intentions and sometimes it seems to work out for them. My intentions are just for her to know that she’s beautiful.

Sure, I hold a hope that maybe it could lead to something. But it’s not really the main reason.

Or am I deceiving myself?

Maybe it is the main reason, and that’s why it’s so hard for me to go for it…

But really, what does it matter? Maybe I’ll feel embarrassed about it. And maybe she’ll think I’m weird or creepy or sleazy or whatever else.

But perhaps she’ll be touched by my words and the sentiment behind them.

Perhaps she’ll be swept of her feet by my honesty and passion and we’ll fall in love.

Perhaps it’s just what she needs to hear in the midst or at the end of a really bad day, and even if she doesn’t return the sentiment, my compliments and the authenticity in my voice will lift her spirits.

An old girlfriend of mine once said, “Never miss an opportunity to tell someone you love them.” I think that those were wise words, and I would actually like to live by them, be a man who wears his heart on his sleeve…

And I want to put all this into a poem, that has turned into an ongoing series, for which this is the foreword.

So without further ado, here is the first:

Hostel Breakfast

Yoghurt and oats

Hostel breakfast

Streaky blonde hair

A kind, round face

Nipples poking through your shirt

Cream on the acne scars

That dot your soft cheeks

Blissfully unaware of the flutter

You’re stirring in my chest

We talk of home and travel

Snow and heat and coffee and bars

Then I say nice to meet you

And leave to collect my laundry

Without ever telling you

How beautiful you are

Without even trying