The seconds pass,
Ever so slowly,
So many questions,
I wish to ask you,
But too afraid am I,
Of the answers,
Of your reaction,

Will I appear too honest,
Too naive and curious,
But how can I ignore,
Our constant conversation,
Never ceasing,
Or the anger that consumes you,
When he hurts me so,

The way you seem,
So over-whelmed by desire,
Yet so cautious around me,
As though I am a fragile piece of glass,
And too rough or honest a word,
Might shatter me,
Leaving me broken and beyond repair