The closer we grow,
The more intense I feel,
Because I know,
I'm lying to him,
And the last thing,
I want to do,
Is to hurt him.
This is all new to me,
Every single bit,
And I feel much too young for this,
But I know it's real,
Because I can feel it.
I can feel it in the way he holds me,
When our lips touch.
I can feel it in the way he grasps my hand,
When he's scared to say something out loud.
I can feel it in the way he touches my cheek,
As if I'm the most delicate thought,
He has ever come across,
And I feel it in the moments when all we can do,
Is stare into each other's eyes,
And not speak a word,
Until the other must leave,
Because we know someday,
It will be the last day,
Our eyes ever meet.
That is the day I dread,
Especially if that day comes,
And he knows nothing,
That is the truth of me.
That is the day I dread.
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Love Story: A Poet's Collection
PoetryLife, Does not wait, For you. It stirs your emotions, And reforms them, Into wings of flight, And it tests, Weather or not, You will open the cage, And allow yourself, To give up, Or if you will keep the wings calm, And continue to live, And underst...
