Unfortunately the dust has built up on a letter i wrote to you filled with fear,
a transparent way of combining my fears and infatuation for you.
I expressed my fears in ink, but also in dust,
for i never felt worthy enough,
that letter was never sent.
Fear a word that describes what still overpowers the vibration of atoms formed into the image of me, never able to express, never able to breathe.
I have hidden behind a persona of intelligence and speaking with lack of emotions,
a persona i have used to cover up my deep insecurities.
Deep like the ocean blue,
Im drowning in my own ocean, metaphorically speaking my insecurities are the liquid in which forms around me,
and it has become a way of life.
To feel this way, is to not feel at all.
To live this way, is to not live at all.
My heart may beat, but for what purpose?
103 beats per minute, minutes.
It beats because of time.
Time is everything, and time with you is everything to me.

.
Opinions are like directions;
.
Sometimes, you don't have to be right.
.

Opinions
are an
****** onion:
they sting
they burn
but they taste
oh so
delicious
on your tongue
when you speak them