What a strange sensation
To yearn for what one has
Weeks pass between meetings and my heart grows brittle
This feeble thing
Wanting and wanting and selfishly wanting but i cannot
Bring myself
To chill
We talk, of course
We are not truly apart in the way of ancient lovers divided by
hours and
miles and the
agonizing
stretch of
time between correspondence
But something happens to my soul when you are near
Something settles my uncertain heart when we stand face to face
Something puts my brittle nerves at ease when you squeeze me in a hug that lasts
I want and I want and I want
More and more and more
I am a terribly horribly needy thing, as it turns out
Too much, probably
My yearning and wanting and aching to hold your hand, to link our arms, to kiss your lips
It feels like too much
Like i cannot possibly expect another person to cope with my wretched overflowing of emotions
I hold my own leash tight, that I might not throw myself at your feet
