Only for Myself

On The Edge of My Seat

Sometimes,
I think it'd be better just to tell you.
To rip the words from my mouth like a bandaid.
Fast and quick and
painless.
To let you ravish me and consume my soul and get it over with.
But it wouldn't be painless.
I can't bear to let you
in, and
you can't handle the magnitude
of me.
I'm on the edge of my seat wanting to tell you that
I want more.
But I'm not ready,
I'm not.