Feb 2017
I'm afraid.
That the feelings I hold
Will fall from my grasp.
I'm afraid.
Of saying those words
That if spoken,
Would vanish into thin air,
I'm afraid...
That the feelings I express,
Are feelings based on lies
That have been painted by myself...
These fears I have
I know are wistful,
Desiring and yet
Holding feelings fickle,
Wanting truth... and yet,
Comforting myself with lies tristful.
There are feelings I am afraid to voice.
If voiced, just like before,
They would lose their meaning.
That if spoken, they would just become
The past.
These feelings that I hold,
Are they lies?
Or has everything become a regret?
That if spoken,
If fulfilled,
Parting with it comes with ease
That the feelings I hold
Will fall from my grasp.
I'm afraid.
Of saying those words
That if spoken,
Would vanish into thin air,
I'm afraid...
That the feelings I express,
Are feelings based on lies
That have been painted by myself...
These fears I have
I know are wistful,
Desiring and yet
Holding feelings fickle,
Wanting truth... and yet,
Comforting myself with lies tristful.
There are feelings I am afraid to voice.
If voiced, just like before,
They would lose their meaning.
That if spoken, they would just become
The past.
These feelings that I hold,
Are they lies?
Or has everything become a regret?
That if spoken,
If fulfilled,
Parting with it comes with ease
While writing this I felt like I was writing about a love passed, which is fulfilling as it's like I'm dealing with two thoughts in one poem. Many are the reasons one can regret, and many are those that can be loved, whether it be friends, family or partners. These feelings that I hold, are they fickle? Or buried deep inside?
