Late Bloomer
I'm starting at the finish line,
Head spins, blood flushes through
Adrenaline bolting than sound.
Am I late blooming?
Dried Leaves seem young.
Ecstasies dance off my guts.
As I dine to the feel of butterflies
While being swept off my feet
My heart now leads my brain.
The suspense of romance persists.
Obvious mistakes embed to the core.
I guess I'm losing control.
Entanglement of emotions,
The fear to hurt is now the compass.
As the globe shrinks so small
I guess I'm a late bloomer.
Copyright © Charley De Inspirator | Year Posted 2023
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