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.