i don't know what i ought to be feeling.
i don't know what i ought to be thinking.
you ask me, "what?"
my mouth replies, "i don't know."
my heart replies, "this is difficult."
my brain hushes my lips, then, and keeps me silent.
your hand rests only inches from mine,
but i'm afraid to reach for it.
i'm afraid that you'll let go.
and everything we've been through will be lost.
lost, like my thoughts, when i look in your eyes.
lost, like my conscience, when i listen to you speak.
and all i can think of is pressing my lips to yours,
silencing your troubles, and mine,
and becoming tangled in the moment once again.
but i cannot; i am weak.
and i need you to help me free myself.
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