by James McDuffie

It is blurry without glasses.
The rain is tapping against the ground,
And these words seem less real.

Self reflection of a sorts,
Wonderings of my inaction.

Troubled because of the ending of more than a year,
But over that mountain of regret newly climbed.

Emotions suppressed because of obligation,
To another.

Yet they were there from the start,
Played off by comments to that mountain past.

Now I hide from the others,
Those I know best.

Why do I hide, what is it I desire,
From those closest.

And I wonder.
Is it possible?
Is it the same way with the other?
Are the feelings the same.

Never sure, time will tell.
But impatience wants the feeling out in the open.

The little scared boy combats.
He does not want that which is not known released.

Does the other know it?
Do the actions I pose give any indictation.

They should, but maybe they are not.

Even though my heart beats faster with each thought,
I do not want to ruin it, what is.
So forever in inaction I remain,
Hidden.

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