watch my lips:
i’ll busy them so as not
to allow nervous verbiage
to spill past.
playing over the partially drunk
peppermint mocha, entranced
while your eyes slowly read
a lot of painstakingly printed words.
i like to write, i’d explain—
but my tongue is trembling,
and this coffee cup cover
needs to muffle my thoughts.
without my mouth’s distraction,
i’d run a greater risk of super creepin’,
and it’s taking all of me and energy
not to quake a confession right now.
didn’t take you as the hugging type,
and this bittersweet embrace
shoots my guard up so high.
so desperate an attempt not to
reveal everything all over again;
as much as i want answers,
there’s so much at stake.
i let go of your soft warmth,
unwilling and unsure of myself,
wondering if you consider me a friend,
or if you’ll ever give us a chance.
two months delay and i’m still looking:
a simple question, a complex definition?
been itching my mind all this time,
and my lips may never let me voice it.