Back peddling all the way,
Even in the simple grace
Of a beautiful face before me;
I disillusion any circumstance.
Guess I don't want that gift.
Guess I'm not ready for that
Landslide of feeling to
Come driving down my measure,
Making me open and exposed
To the elements of the heart again.
I just can't give anymore.
Feel like I need a break.
I've built a plateau so high
That very few, if any could reach.
I'm getting by on my own,
But I shudder to think of what may be
When someone reaches that peak...
So scared to understand that nature.
So burdened I might exist
Without a witness to it's arrival.
I laugh out of habit.
I recount the rising hairline.
I suspense with superficial pleasantries;
I want all of the real. I want to
Move and be moved by it.
I need all of what is. I cannot
Function by design without these.
I am afraid I've missed the chance.
I skip along despite this loss
And hope again to
Join in this awkward dance.