You infuriate me.
In moments where you open your mouth to call out my name in a crowd full of witness of how I freeze. When your presence affects me so much I always, always almost forget how to breathe.
You infuriate me with the way you serve others, your needs last. The way you're so stubborn not to tell your worries and failures as if I know it not. It affects me in a way that I can't even explain. Like an abstract piece trying to decipher by a philistine.
It infuriates me so.
But I let it consume me for a while. Consume me as if feelings are constant and nothing else matters. Enjoying — or must I say, detesting how I feel when you're around. I let it come — the giddiness; heart skips; the no thoughts, head empties; the imma be delulu until you pursue kinda thing.
I let it all come... and some more until I became calm.
You are still the same with the way your eyes shine when you smile and dim when you have something in your mind, no it wouldn't pass me by. You're still so close when you're here, but my heart doesn't thunder no more when you're near.
No, you don't infuriate me anymore. Yes, the affection still isn't lore.
It's still perfectly clear. But now grounded by the reality that maybe you're not my greatest fear.
卂𝔦𝕣
