I want to say it.
It’s raging in my throat like a wildfire.
I am terrified of the implications.
The words recede in a deep, dark pit.
I’m not quite sure yet what I desire.
This feels different than the previous situations.
it’s just a word.
I wish it would come out of hiding.
Maybe I’m being overly cautious.
The thought is feeling less and less absurd.
I want to coax it from where it’s residing.
When I try to let it out, I grow nauseous.
Maybe you should say it first?
I don’t know exactly how I’d react.
I hope I will just say it back.
I fear I may just be the worst.
My thoughts and heart are too abstract.
I think I should tell you this.
I really like your soft green eyes.
I like when we laugh and kiss.
I know it’s something I had to realize.
I hope that you do think it too.
The stewing word that’s left to brew.
Everything we do is new.
And that **** word will soon erupt.
Piercing my lips with a violent shove,
Against everything it will disrupt.
That **** word rhymes with dove.