It's orange flames; burning heat everytime I speak
It's a gnawing feeling, eating away at my very being
It's a flash of light so very bright like a deer in headlights
It's words on my tongue waiting to be sprung and dance toward your ear
I'm biting my tongue; wanting to tell; afraid that you will judge
Because even if you say it's fine, and you don't care at all
I have this fear you will no longer think of me the same