queer-with-a-pen

secrets

you tell me to
follow my heart
and i almost say
“i love you”

sitting next to you
at a table which holds more
sentimental value than i could
ever possibly understand
i want to reach out
and touch your hand

but i bite my tongue
alcohol thrumming in my veins
almost enough courage to 
tell you how i feel

and instead i say
forcing a laugh
“my heart has a shit
sense of direction”

because how do i tell you
that this map i hold
in my shaking hands
always leads back to you

i have already made myself
so very vulnerable where
you and i are concerned
and i don’t want to
scare you away

following my heart
is bad advice
meant to be caring
and that makes this hurt even more
all this pent-up affection
threatening to overflow

but i am holding it back
with clenched fists and
an aching tongue from
all the times i almost
told you how i really feel

and i don’t know how to
make this pining sound poetic
when i am so good at unrequited
love love love
and wanting to hold
you close