A RAMBLING SECRET.

Ashamed even to admit- why should I dare, why would you care?

But in burning up, I bruise my heart.

Creased into crinkles of hiding myself,

Deciding for your heart that I should run away.

Exhaustive is the way I feel-

Flushed cheeks, I want to scorch their evidence away.

Guilty in this feeling, though so natural.

Holistic, love always seems to be, are we not

Interconnected, something brighter when two are whole?

Jest with me for a minute, please.

Kiss me in the rain;

Let me pretend. Let me believe.

Moors wild and green, I wander in these imaginings.

Northanger Abbey, a beautiful valley,

Oh! How a girl can glide in romantic pages,

Picturesque is the presentation of love in fiction.

Quadrille dancing, daydreaming.

Regretful though, I always scorn myself.

Sorry I would dare even give thought.

Tracing my lips with tears,

Understanding I will never admit,

Vanquishing my love, like I’m a valiant heroine,

Worrying it is never enough, or I’ll never be enough.

Xanthippe is a byword, but I will not be ill-tempered.

Young in my love, I’ll walk alone and quiet.

Zealous and yet unacting.