I hate not knowing how you feel when you see me

Is it love that makes your lips turn up

Or pure curiosity?

I hate not knowing what my words mean to you

Are they like daggers with a poison tip

Or like honeydew?

I hate feeling as if dark clouds surround me

Because then what do I fall into?

If not your arms then I have been cursed with solitude.

I hate not being able to touch the very sensitive skin we share

Or feed the very spark that united us here

Like crossed out words on a blank page

These words cannot be said

It's only been a week

But you're stuck in my head.

Too soon, love, its too soon to call you mine

But the longing for you makes me feel like I'm at fault

At fault for being flawed

Flawed for wanting more

All too soon.