you fill my pores with an incomprehensible feeling.
This is too quick isn't it..
It's the shivers of a new feeling
slipping into the comfort of your smile.
I've been afraid of eyes all along
they'd look at me with emotions I couldn't mirror back.
I hid from them feeling invisible If I looked away
feeling safe.
the searchlights in their pupils boring into the emptiness in mine.
I squirmed like a frog on a disection table
crawled away from it all
feeling like a stranger in a strange land.
But your eyes allure me.
beckoning with some strange magic.
But it did not feel magical.
It felt real.
And I felt undressed with your eyes
not violated,
remaining fully clothed,
you peeled off the layers of false securities.
A pureness, amazement,
oh I wish I could write better
It's nothing too incredible.
I said I wouldn't do this.
And here I go.
"..I'm sure that one day
true love will come my way
and i can put all this cynicism behind.
But if that day comes
you wont see me become
another flowery love-struck youth.
Proclaiming my love
from the rooftops above
such behavior to me seems uncouth..."
The rooftops are too high and slippery
covered in a veil of winter's frozen tears.
And though I feel something,
intangible and irresolute,
incomprehensible and beautiful,
for you at this time and hour
I won't risk climbing all the way up there.
I wont make any presumptions.
No assumptions and no predictions.
I take each day as it comes
but waking with a smile to the thought of you.
My goal this year is to be a better writer
to be able to successfully write about this queer emotion
Which we call "love".
With no cliches and tired phrases
I want to be the Shakespeare in response to Petrarch.
Show me the emotion and I'll channel the words.
This is too quick isn't it..
It's the shivers of a new feeling
slipping into the comfort of your smile.
I've been afraid of eyes all along
they'd look at me with emotions I couldn't mirror back.
I hid from them feeling invisible If I looked away
feeling safe.
the searchlights in their pupils boring into the emptiness in mine.
I squirmed like a frog on a disection table
crawled away from it all
feeling like a stranger in a strange land.
But your eyes allure me.
beckoning with some strange magic.
But it did not feel magical.
It felt real.
And I felt undressed with your eyes
not violated,
remaining fully clothed,
you peeled off the layers of false securities.
A pureness, amazement,
oh I wish I could write better
It's nothing too incredible.
I said I wouldn't do this.
And here I go.
"..I'm sure that one day
true love will come my way
and i can put all this cynicism behind.
But if that day comes
you wont see me become
another flowery love-struck youth.
Proclaiming my love
from the rooftops above
such behavior to me seems uncouth..."
The rooftops are too high and slippery
covered in a veil of winter's frozen tears.
And though I feel something,
intangible and irresolute,
incomprehensible and beautiful,
for you at this time and hour
I won't risk climbing all the way up there.
I wont make any presumptions.
No assumptions and no predictions.
I take each day as it comes
but waking with a smile to the thought of you.
My goal this year is to be a better writer
to be able to successfully write about this queer emotion
Which we call "love".
With no cliches and tired phrases
I want to be the Shakespeare in response to Petrarch.
Show me the emotion and I'll channel the words.
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