A Piece of Me

I wrote this poem a while ago while having to face the idea that my affections weren’t and would never be returned (and I didn’t have the nerve to tell the person of my feelings, which happens very frequently). I found it in a random file while searching through my computer, forgetting that I had even written it. I figured I might as well put something remotely personal on this thing other than my rants on life. I like this poem, I’ve never shown it to anyone before so I figure now would be as good a time as ever to do so. I actually don’t share a lot of my poems, mostly because, for me, writing is therapeutic, something I resort to when I am feeling a strong emotion and I want to work it out. So, I write. My poetry is not particularly astounding, or inspiring, or beautiful, but it’s a reflection of how I feel or felt at the time and so I grow attached to every one I write, no matter how silly they seem to be after looking back months, years, or even days later. They are a part of me and I treasure them dearly.

Beneath the radar of this world there is a secret that I hold,
I could never bear revealing for I could never bear it told,
My secret swells inside me, but I cannot let it free,
For if I told my secret, it would have a hold on me.

As lofty as a feather yet as fearsome as a storm,
It often gives me goosebumps and it often keeps me warm,
My secret holds a danger that I could never face,
And so in fear and worry, I keep it in its place.

I wish I had the courage to simply let it go,
I would finally have the answer to what I yearn to know,
The swell is getting stronger, and is almost breaking through,
And I can no longer stop what I know I need to do.

I face my little secret with a growing sense of fear,
But my yearning is much stronger and I draw the secret near,
And with the careful handling of a mother with her child,
I gently lift the secret and release it to the wild.

I watch it sweetly glisten as it rises soft and slow,
And I prepare to tell you what I should have long ago,
“Never in my life have I found a fact more true,”
Than the simple frightening fact that “I’m in love with you.”

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