In the darkened hours,
lost in fever dreams,
orchestrating affectionate insanity,
expecting the worst,
yet I still jump,
over the edge,
unleashing the words I swallow,
because I’m afraid you won’t like how they taste.
Under the bright lights you bring to my life,
tempted to stay,
in the fantasy we create.
Am I going mad?
Maybe I am just new to being needed,
sleeping in the shadow of my growing heart,
oblivious to how fast I fall.
Shaking as I wake and remember,
counting twinflowers as I wait for you to arrive,
always impatient, impossible,
racing past my past to keep up with who I want to be,
everything I think we can be,
dreaming with tentative hope.