The Same Old Doubt Poem by Delilah Miller
The Same Old Doubt
How do I explain that your hunger frightens me?
The tightness of your touch
enters my mind, rushing,
squeezes my heart
and it beats, beating far too fast, too much,
until I feel that in your hand, it'll fall apart.
Weakness seems to saturate me;
As you jump in, my breath jumps out!
A thought comes barely whispering;
you're trying to imprint words on my skin
and the breath returns as 'Run! ', the same old doubt
and I feel you'll destroy me if I let you in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 3:48:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A luscious strawberry lying there In the morning sun's bright glare Waiting to be picked By hands moving quick Take me it seems to cry As if the picker might pass it by. Not yet - is the decision made from above As the trays of like berries are made to move For too soon, and the fruit of the plant will be wasted And later will most certainly be discarded. The near ripe fruit will wait another day For the careful picker to come that way And as its fragrance fills the air It is for sure, the berry for which we all care, And will bring pleasure to those who have waited For ripeness and fulfillment; appetite be sated. s