Should I tell her what I think,
would I have the words to say?
If I ask her will she turn me away?
Things I think about night and day.

Here I am, right on the brink
vocal chords honed and ready;
Hands clammy ***** and sweaty
and the left one I just can't
seem to keep steady.

There she is, taking a sip from a drink
holding it gently like it holds much worth
or is warm just like a teddy.
Eyes full of mirth, soul
as beautifully clean
as a spirital rebirth.

Here I go now, I'm up on the ups
I take two three steps and get
the hiccups;
what
               to
do now -----------
can't
                    finish a
sentence;

run out of options,
hit knee
beg for mercy,
feign penitence.