God there are so many things
I need to tell you
But I can't seem to find any of the words.

I'm scared you'll laugh
Or be so flustered you won't speak
Or be so confused because you couldn't see
The signs I was giving you this whole time
Everyday
Every text
Every smile

But I'm scared even more that
The moment will come and it will be b o l d

And I won't be ready at a l l

And my dreams will crash upon my soul
With more pain than stepping on needles,
But in a way I am stepping on needles
In my own mind with my own games
With a piece of tape across my mouth
That you can't see but I can feel.

So I hope that I can pull off the tape
Because they say it's like a bandaid,
But can it really be said
That the feeling of showing your feelings
Can equate to a small wound?

It's terrifying because it can equate to all wounds:
Big small round bruised sprained broken
U n h e a l e d

And they'll never be healed because
The heart can't repair itself after a while.

And there I have a conundrum to have to
Risk exposure to the world
In the hope that my heart won't
Have to heal itself anymore
But will instead have a healer.