Les sentiments qui nagent dans ma tête
Après t’avoir regardé dans les yeux
(Quand je me sens capable de ce fait) -
Remplissent mon cœur de fébrilité

Trop exposant pour s’exprimer dans ma langue maternelle.  

Mes choix de mots et les expressions enfantines
Reflètent mes sentiments -

Maladroits mais purs;
Nerveux mais calmes.
Sécurité et vulnérabilité entrelacées
comme nos mains

——

The feelings that swim in my head
After I meet your gaze
(When I feel capable of doing so) -
Fill my heart with restless excitement

Too exposing to express in my native tongue.

My choice of words and childlike expression
Mirror my emotions -

Awkward but pure;
Nervous but calm.
Security and vulnerability interlaced
Like our hands.

liquid gold falls upon your face
highlighting your lips’ quivering with concentration

i wonder are they as soft as i’ve imagined
as i melt into you, unassuming

my smile widens and my stomach knots
like my skeins of wool

that i never cut loose
i too shall detangle
and remain whole

with time

words swirl in my head
and dance between the lines
flirtatiously

antsy hands tingle

I know the way out
but I want the way through

i like to think i /feel/ my emotions
but every time i sit to write i feel my heartbeat
quicken and rise to my throat
like a helium-filled boulder
breaths shorten

what am i afraid to reveal to myself?

when I am ill I do not puke
I spew poetry
like a lady

I read you the children's storybooks that your parents sold
and buy you marbles like your old collection
(that one day was no longer there) and
we will sit craning our necks, healing our hearts

we can do arts and crafts projects
(and this time they will be hung up on the fridge)
and I'll double check your room for monsters
and your music box for pills

you have been compressed, ashamedly
for far too long
scoffed at and eyes rolled
if heads do

you are free now, protected and proud
you are safe and sound
join hands, and know that
these new planes of vulnerability keep you strong.

there is beauty in recognising that I am still the sapling I referred to myself as in my poetry of three Aprils ago, horrified

I will continue to love those out of reach
continue to get my heartbroken
I will perpetually and paradoxically be "too old" and "too young"

but most of all, I will continue to grow.