The Look

I think I am afraid to love, To move into emotions positive, But instead I move into the abyss Its knowing the unknown that frightens the hair of my pale arms It stands on end as the words roll off your tongue Are you afraid to love? What is the chance, The challenge that I may find myself intertwined with your soul? Then I shall choose to scrape all the attention off of my shoulders and back onto the shaken leaves of the tree that grows within your garden It is a rule I have set I am bound by these things And yet you seem to welcome me with your eyes wide There is no room for judgement, As you promised to the lips before mine And I have yet to be awakened by the sounds of a silent room The humming that you so abide by to the morning ritual The stare that emits...something Intimate But I would fail to open these sores for you to heal And I am cursed to read the puzzles that cause wrinkles to your perfection