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They say there's a thin line between love and hate,
I wish I'd listened to those words so many months ago to save me from heartache.

They've called me heartless and unkind, but the way my heart's been beating lately-I have to believe it's a good sign.

The days with little touch have become short and nights way too long.
Because what my heart and body crave can only be content around him.
All that really keep me company are these love poems.

My mind can't grasp these mixed feelings, and if I could control them, I would chose not to.

For my palms get sweaty and shaky, my nerves are heightened, and I'm aware or his every presence.

Is this being happy?
Happiness comes to those who most deserve, and with my dark secrets suffocating me daily, I most definitely don't deserve.

You say you're happy, but am I the sole reason?
Happiness I know nothing of, I've only ever known of secrets, lies, and drugs.

I'm foolish in thinking you can turn all this around,
but as mush as I wish and hope, your sweet words get lost in everyday sounds.

I try to enjoy the way you make me feel protected and cared for, but you deserve someone who can be fully yours, I swear I was capable of it once before.

My sleepless nights and terrors aren't to be shared, and I'm hoping they aren't forever.
With every promise you make, every tingle I feel, I think it's possible.
But I want more. I want to be sure.

I want to know of your dreams, your secrets, your fears.
To make you feel that I'm present, that I'm all ears.

Recent days have been different. I've felt strong and carefree to do and say as I wish,
and for once my feelings are starting to make sense.

I worried of you changing your mind, but now I know I wouldn't be able to change mine.

Your love is too much to ask for, and I promise to never ask that of you.
But for once I can't deny how I feel.
I'm scared more now than ever, because I know it's too soon.

I swear I used to know better, so I'm Sorry,
but I'm scared I may be in love with you.

— The End —