To Be Determined

if you're reading this, you'll know

bright. blinding. we look at things that take us over when we want to remember what our hearts feel like when they race. i couldn't take my eyes from you; i looked away - sharp, fast - when you caught me. i don't know if you noticed. it doesn't matter. you found me in my obnoxious dress you later described as something far better. there was a gold chain around my neck. i didn't know if touching it would take your eyes from mine. i was so blind i didn't think to try.

someone once told me loving someone felt like flying. if you must fall before the flight, then falling feels like a heart attack. or, at least, my approximation of one. sinking lungs, racing heart, greedy ideas, rationalizations of why you would want to see me four days in a row. like this poem, i spiral sometimes - no, not in that sense, but in the sense that i over analyze small things. i wonder why you don't touch me. i wonder why you want me. i wonder how you want me.

did you see me on that stage and think about my mouth? i want you to understand my body is a temperamental thing and i'm a creature of habit. i do these things because i want you; mind, spirit, the lot of it. i'm the epitome of destruction but i want to give you gifts. i don't know how to take this sweet kindness, this leeway of liberties left to take. tell me when i step too far, or ask me to cross the line.