I want to tell you how much I love you

but the thought of it makes me sick to the pit of my stomach

feeling it with dread with your rejection

causing envious decisions

but a hopefulness mixed in with butterflies

yearning the desire to be loved

a yummy taste of honey and cream

If I tell you the words

would you say them back to me

or throw me in the garbage shoot compacter

left to be picked by a random person on the street

or will you kiss me and tell me the same

my chances are 50/50

do I want to take that risk 

by jumping off this diving board

not knowing how to swim

waiting for your reaction

of dismay

or of acceptance

Why can’t you just tell me first

so I can tell you how much I love you

Read Love Letter #63