I could never tell you.
I’ll look at you
and wonder
and think
and dive so far
into the brown of your eyes
a surface no longer exists -
but I’ll stay quiet.
I can’t let you see.
We’re all
far too damaged
to let each other see.
I keep clasping
your hand
like I’m not afraid.
Intertwining my fingers
around you
even though
fear of ripped out pieces
staggers
my breath.
I curl to the irony
of never feeling
so safe
and so endangered
at once,
and all I want is
courage to say…
to say…
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 3:12 AM UTC
I could never tell you.
I’ll look at you
and wonder
and think
and dive so far
into the brown of your eyes
a surface no longer exists -
but I’ll stay quiet.
I can’t let you see.
We’re all
far too damaged
to let each other see.
I keep clasping
your hand
like I’m not afraid.
Intertwining my fingers
around you
even though
fear of ripped out pieces
staggers
my breath.
I curl to the irony
of never feeling
so safe
and so endangered
at once,
and all I want is
courage to say…
to say…
Request permission to use this poem