These words that are stuck in my head,
That i wish would flow freely from my lips,
Only run tripping around my mind.

I write you pages and pages of letters when I should be studying.
I think up all these things I'll never say when I should be sleeping.
Worse yet, I picture your face and I hear your voice when I am with other people.

When you are around I am on awe of you, of me, and of us,
The one thing that I am not is poetically speaking these words and thoughts and desires to you.
What I am is painfully silent and reserved.

I didn't used to be. Before I knew you loved me, then knew you could not bare to love me any longer, I was open, I was funny, in was me, the me that made you love me, before you couldn't.

All these words, I am scared to say to you, lest I loose the connection that I still have to you.
So I say it here, in this poetic free for all, knowing you will never see it because I will need show me. But these readers, these reasers, some of whom share my angst, and others that just sympathize, with them I will share. With them it is safe to pour out my heart and my rational and irrational fears. Here I am safe. And here my words flow like torrent rivers from my soul to this cyber page.


© Misty Bishop-Martiss