I am an onion,
Layer upon layer there
Is of me,
And none of these
So readily revealed
To casual scrutiny,

Oh  no you must work
And work hard to
Learn each layer,
Reveal every closely guarded
Aspect of my being
Or my soul

But dig hard enough,
Dig deep enough
And with a sharp enough blade,
And with dedication
You may just see
That which I may choose you to

Oh- falling to the floor
falling off the bat; a swing at love, again
It's not all the same, indifferent but still
the clueless cliché. Anyways what could
I say to not seem the clingy type
a softie sometimes, knowing he'll marry
a strong wife

A dragon, fierce fiery breath
she speaks a word of fantasy, and unlike
the rest- she has a tougher flesh, and presses away
my insecurities with an impressive hug pressing
on me with an impressive chest

Self control out of the handle of my reflection
perhaps my emotional side is never-ending
Cherished by a face that could never disguise a smile;
my awkward smile, belonging to Mr always nice guy
Confidently shy, shying away from being a razor
of cutting words to chat up a girl
My mistake to chat sensibly after a little rude talk,
mixed in those silly jokes. I choke on my physical words,
a silent face and volumes of confidence only in these poems

Club scenes are meaningless to me
meaning less of me would be less active than seen
I'm falling in between an introvert, and a little
extrovert trying to creep out a bit
It's always a risk, and amidst in the mist of dispersion
of a stretched out imagination of a ******
Told always, "you really need a girlfriend"
good at making conversation with just a girl friend
Till feelings are involved, it sort of does in my head

Spares to a secondary nature of testosterone
spiking at a random
Making passes of being a little passive- my confidence
isn't so massive, although my caring eyes and heart
are at times attractive

But I still have the eyes of a jealous man; possessive
to means if I find you as a potential. Potentially pointing
out my heart's gun to shoot around your lines
I'll still be a little awkward saying my hie, and wanting
long hugs goodbyes

I'm just so sorry for being this constant shy guy

minaret, matte in haze
an illusion of detail
you, Impressionism
your bricks clasp each other
intricately, intimately
without hesitation or sense

lips of red and suave craft
tilt:
pyre suddenly

I step back

I can fathom you
from here only

Underneath, there are secrets
Kept safe from prying eyes
Held fast and secure
Behind a lame disguise

Would they think less of me
If everything was shown
I wonder, would their eyes still see
The person they have known

Standing pretzeled
Hidden among the others
A scattered bouquet
Not wanting to be picked

Wallflowers are seen so briefly
Others skim over them
While reading the room

Wallflowers with camouflage personalities
Long for a low profile

Wallflowers are real
Thinking and feeling
Wallflowers live a life
Of unprojected desires

They blend and bend
To cover the wall
Fearful they will dance alone

Music is entrancing
Still, wallflowers keep their heels
Firmly in place
While swaying to the music
In their heart

I act shy around
strangers,
strangely enough
amongst my peers,
but around you
I'm not as shy;
to be strangely in
love with
you.

strange?

My tongue lowers; as nothing can be expressed,
the love has not many words.

As are the prideful
remarks on breast.

I fear for the words to say, aren't perfect
in the ceremonies of love's rite,

The strength of my words only decay. A burden
of mine to lose my might.

Eyes heavy upon this love,
Preyed onto by your glorious sight. Oh how my
silent love only knows wit,

Belonging to a shy man's lips.

Is it wrong
to go through
day by day
and barely speak a word?

.
.
.
Everyone else is just
so loud.
I can't be heard anyway

I've learned
that I
almost like
being ignored.

Most people leave me alone.
Maybe I like it better this way.

Or did I just get good
at ignoring my loneliness?