It feels like
impending doom.
It feels irrational.
It feels insane.
It feels like a snowball
rolling into an avalanche
wiping me off my feet
hurling me down the mountain
skidding me to a halt
debris piling on top of me
and leaving me to slowly suffocate.

There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
Stereotyped
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk