TO A LOVER
Forget-me-not flowers. Source: unknown, Pinterest |
Oh, to touch that skin of yours and feel the excitement and electricity of meeting someone new.
Getting to know you bit by bit, twenty miles away from me — such an amazing discovery.
Wondering if it's all fun and games, Reason warns me: the attitude, my dear, it never lies.
There is a blur in my mind whenever I'm talking to you as if I can't do nothing else but learn more about this life of yours and share mine.
Fear and discouragement, still on the way, saying:
"do it not, for it'll go wrong again. Life's a box full of disappointments and we need not another for our collection."
I try not to raise expectations as my heart is imprisioned, once again, for fantasizing excessively. Protective measures, you see. But I go on, still; I crave you.
To start feeling deared, and loved, and cared for by other than not your family and friends is such a miracle that it seems a lie:
A lie I want not to end,
for I want to get closer with you and to you
and not feel like a fool for being a poet girl anymore.
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