Sitting by the phone, waiting for that call.
Each minute feels likes hours.
Trying to think of what to say this time.
How can I be myself, how can open my heart to someone else?
Is it better to leave certain thing unsaid?
Am I like an old paperback used up and already read.
Butterflys are eating at me.
Making me all jittery.
Shaking from the inside out.
Is their a ring of truth in all this doubt.
Give me confidence, because I never want to fake it again.
Drinking an empty bottle in my head.
It's all has been building to this moment.
Standing tall over an ledge, and never looking down.
Not afraid that I'll fall, but I'll walk away.
I know what I want, I know what she wants.
But is it ever that simple?
Over complicating things.
That will not be me.
Taking it nice and slow.
Doing things right, coloring inside the lines.
It might not be pretty, or sexy, but it's me.
And that is all it can ever be.
As per time during perception of love one thinks what to tell. This happens very often and we feel this fear in expression of love in one's mind. An amazing poem is very beautifully penned...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To start a painting, we only have a vision of what imagery it may looks and each time to start streaking colours, it could be fear on canvas because the vision maybe covered by mistakes and it will be gone without born to be real Maybe sometimes we just do, because it rather now or never and even the imagery we want to have is not there. it could be better and it wont be the worst So eliminate doubts and claim what heart wants