It is so easy
For me to love you
That it frightens me
I've never been good at anything
But I've never wanted
Anything so much
as I want to hold you
Everything waking minute
And every night while I sleep
The question ceased to be
"How do I love you?"
And has become
"How would I ever stop?"
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
