Poetry
When I met you I was afraid to look at you.
When I looked at you I was afraid to talk to you.
When I talked to you I was afraid to engage with you.
When I engaged with you I was afraid to capture you.
When I captured you I was afraid to hold you.
When I held you I was afraid to kiss you.
When I kissed you I was afraid of wanting you.
And now that I want you I am afraid of loosing you.
I love you
I would like to be your tears coming from your eyes, running down your cheeks, and die on your lips
If my sole were ink and my heart was an inkpot with the blood of my veins I would write - I want you
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