XXIX

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I'm shy
timid
insecure
so very nervous
of so much and so little
and I can't help this

and I can't help how I feel about you

     (and how I can't work up the courage
to tell you)

So I leave it 
at small smiles
and soft hellos
from a voice as quiet as the wind
and chapped lips

     (it acts as my cage
so the butterflies inside me won't fly away)

Because I'm afraid - 
like a cold frost seeping
into my bones
and painting over my heart - 
that if  I ask you 

"what do you think of me"

you're reply will be 

"I don't."


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