Oh tell me god,
Why does this confession feel like sin?
My smiled pulled to the edge of my cheeks,
You can see the grin on my face when she speaks.
But it's more than that, I feel a warmth in my soul, like a piece of me, once lost , is calling out to home.

And I'm excited but I'm filled with fear,
Always retreated when a heart came near,
Pushing away, always thought I was riding it out on the down stream,
But never realising I was on the upstream to my dreams,
Too afraid of what I see not being what it seems,
Falling apart I grab a pillow and scream,
Panic induced and breaking at the seams...
And I'm sorry but that's just me,
Carry my scars not physically but mentally and some times it makes me act detrimentally when clutched by anxiety, I'm sitting back, thinking, " what if everybody lied to me?", but honestly I'm trying to be that somebody better than me...for you.

So now...
I'm here with a confession.
It feels like sin,
But is only good intentions.

I'm awestruck in your presence,
So aware of my words,
Trying to craft the perfect sentence.
It works in theory,
But in practice it fails.

I'm too entranced by your laugh,
Warmed by you words,
Infatuated by your tone,
How could I focus when you jest at my heart so.

It's unfamiliar to me,
The thought that someone could care.
Yet you warm me to it,
As if it's my heart you dare.

I feel open for the first time in a while,
With you I feel the 'myself ' I always used to see.

Just...just the way you giggle...
Makes me bite my lip and hold my tongue,
'Cause I'm still too scared to say it feels like love.

I have held in my heart a longing for so long.
Pushed down out of fear,
That someday I would speak
And then you would be gone.

But this spark yearns for fire,
And my heart wishes to beat to the crackle of the flames.
Now I succumb to desire.
Burn against the dying of the light.

Like a fool you make me a grin,
Engulfed in a warmth I cant imagine being free of sin.

Catch my heart aflame,
Then light your arrows in its fire.
Through my soul a barrage beats down,
My shelter now turned to pyre.

And I, too fearful to fight,
Succumb to it all,
Wishing I could not burn,
Or to feel its warmth alone...
Yet all I've known is the searing.