with all due respect,
please don’t love me yet.
my heart is too fragile,
too broken, still it aches.
I can’t take another heartbreak,
I’m too afraid to let you in.
as much as I want to,
I’m too ******* with the past.
I beg of you,
please don’t love me yet.
I’m not ready, it’s moving all too fast.
hold the names on your tongue,
please don’t say them yet.
my eyes they burn with tears,
as fear begins to pool.
I cannot love you yet,
I’m too freshly healed.
this has nothing against you,
not one bit it does not.
I want to fix myself,
so maybe I can love you best.
I wince at the names you call me,
please don’t call me that yet.
I don’t have the heart to tell you this,
how can anybody?
I wish to rid myself of the pain,
to let go and let you in.
but I can’t, I just can’t.
please let’s take this slow.
we’re moving far too fast.
I don’t mind the stories and the questions,
but please hold off on love.
is it so hard to ask?
with all due respect,
please don’t love me yet.

I used to write poetry.
write about feelings I’d never known before.
but now that I experience them,
the emotions once foreign to me,
I realize they’re nothing like I imagined.

I thought my heart would pour words onto paper,
overflowing with an uncontrollable joy.
but instead it’s soft and steady.
a warmth that radiates calmly across my chest.
it’s simple and it’s comfortable.

now that I know what this feels like,
it’s as if I’ve lost my vocabulary,
forgotten how to write.
because the only thing on my mind
is this feeling you give me.

one I’ve never known before.

they don’t know.
they don’t know.
I tell myself over and over and over.
it’s impossible,
purely impossible,
for one to know my thoughts.
they cannot see me,
they cannot know,
so why is it I hesitate.
this feeling of paranoia,
so strong it drives me to insanity,
bedevils me even now.
I will myself to persuade my mind
that truly they do not know,
cannot know, will not know.
I tremble in the moment,
the ones that debilitate me,
leave me questioning my own reality.
it feels that they’re inside my head,
beckoning me...taunting me.
but I tell myself no, no,
no way in hell can they know.
for surely it is not possible,
for them to see me.
so why do these anxieties plague me,
over things I know they cannot know.

it is my heart language.
a tongue my soul needed to flourish.
one that only I could come to find,
a language that I needed to discover for myself.
in uncovering this alone,
I was able to grow more,
more than if it was my native speech.

though it may not be my mother tongue,
spiritually it is a part of me, it always has been.
I needed a trigger, an experience,
to unearth this buried part of my existence.
I was meant to speak this language,
one many may speak,
but few understand to its depth and its core.

it is a God given gift,
one He meant for me to find in my solace,
a part of my soul He waited eagerly for me to find.
when I found this part of myself,
I understood my trials and my pains.
this tongue erased my scars, healed my wounds.
it buried my shame, and unveiled my soul.

brows knit in aggression
he a predator, I his prey
my head bowed to him,
his eyes locked solely on me.

I felt his warmth come closer,
I sensed his every move.
the way his eyes were dark with power,
left me breathless and afraid.

I craved this kind of pleasure,
the kind derived from pain.
and as I felt his fingers coil on me,
the churning turned to flame.

my desire was unrestrained,
uncontrollable and overwhelming.
only he could put my fire,
with the touch of burning care.