Falling
What alchemy is at work here
That makes the gut a home for butterflies?
What compels the pulse too quicken so?
Or the cheeks to glow with just a whisper, of a thought of you?
What chemistry Has filled my head with you?
And made the days smell fat with smiles And honeydew?
Yet what force stops and holds me back?
Is it that the pain of love is greater than the lack?
I am scared of the possibilities,
And the numerous ways in which I can break,
I am scared of falling, and not landing on my feet
But in some head over heals, Cliché,
Love will save the day, Sort of way,
Loves poison is strong stuff,
And I am scared of falling
Ill.
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