I can’t
breathe.
I feel the
suffocation of anxiety
like a boulder
on my chest.
Too quick, too
close;
I let you
near. For what?
Not for
myself. It was all your doing.
Quick
breaths—in, in, in.
I’m not one for
affections touch so soon.
Earn your way
into my bed
through the
honest outpour of speech.
Breathe—out,
out, out.
The smothering
smolder of your stare
should have
warned me I’d be pinned.
Stuck beneath the heavy hand of passion.
Too quick, too
close
your smile
teased and eyes allure temptingly.
Panic, panic,
panicking
when I
realized I had let you in.
Dropped my
guard a mile back.
I can’t, I
won’t.
This feeling
all too familiar
as a cold
chilling reminder
I’ve been here
before
slithers down
my spine.
Took too long
to patchwork mend me
after the
last rips and tears.
I see a small
light, I can still get out.
Push, push,
push you off.
I can’t, I won’t,
don’t hate me.
