My love for you
is not the fluffy kind.
Here you will not get
Sweet nothings in flowers bind.
Neither will you receive,
Such gifts as love can find.

But it's love as well,
That waits and watches
That let's feelings swell
And in time, them catches.
Love need not be shown
Or proclaimed to the masses.

Let it be private.
Because I am scared.
Scared of too much exposure.
Scared of not much composure.
Scared that this what has started,
Will risk the wrath of displeasure.

Let it not scream and shout for once.
Let it have a passive existence.
And let it grow as such.
Not everything needs to be active.