i have resolved
to let these moments stab me,
teach me, by reaching my core
and harming me.
it will carve me into something
daring and emboldened;
perhaps i will be smelted,
reforged--
still stronger all the same,
especially without you.

you make me frustrated in the strangest ways, but I guess that's love? I wouldn't call it that but it's starting to creep down that steep *****. I really wish you'd actually talk to me but you're always holding back. I can't tell if it's from fear of what could be or what is. you make me self conscious and self confident. see how you conflict me? I question nearly everything I do, especially when I'm with you. I control my laughter and bite my tongue, or I guffaw with audacity and speak my mind. I'm caught between two of my selves because I'm caught between which one you like more. both are me, yet neither really seem to be. I'm quite tired of the charade but I will not be the one to quit now. I'll ride it out and regret it years from now.

She loved to dance,
the music didn't matter much
It was the feeling,
freedom, surrendering,

I think it was a way of communicating for her
A switch of the hips,
tap of the foot or snap of the wrist 
Illustrated her innermost feelings

I could never read dance
So for me it was only ever an obscure but intimate moment shared

Spoken words are my tools and I amplified my pointed but spinning feelings often and in person,

With no music playing, no time to reflect or poetry to serve as a conduit,
She would freeze and struggle in the immediacy of my spoken words,

These tools constructed small wonders leaving her still
For all the wrong reasons

Dissonance grew beneath the roof of these wonders
Breaching the walls,  
always at nightfall,

We were slaves to our mediums
Our mediums enslaved us
 
She never knew the steps I was shuffling in were mimicking hers,
I didn't know the routine and her music muffled my words leaving them weak, 

Hindsight, reason and honesty our last chance to dance and speak.