Musings by The Poet Loriet
Open Book
Open Book
Too much thinking
gets me in trouble.
I reveal too much,
vulnerable,
an open book.
Others read
between the lines,
sometimes understanding
more than I intended
to show.
I leave myself naked
lacking metaphors
to clothe my thoughts--
emotions carelessly
exposed on my sleeve.
I love fiercely,
denying love given in return,
yet pride keeps
me from asking you
to say, show, do it again.
Fear makes me wonder
if "too emotionally needy"
will scare you away
before I get a chance
to love you.
Please, give me
that chance.
Say you won't go,
leaving me alone,
aching for your arms...
Once I'm there,
I will be okay.
Self-doubt
keeps me
from rejoicing
in your love.
I drink each
"I love you"
as though it's
the last drop of water
in the arid desert.
Is there a hidden blessing,
a silver lining hidden
in feeling so deeply?
It seems to leave a trail
of anxiety and tears
as I blaze through life
with an openly raw heart.
I need too much,
feel too human,
long for that feeling
of closeness to others--
then run and hide,
afraid
when I've given
too much.
Come and find me,
show me that
I'm special to you
--once, twice, thrice--
like a steady stream
of fresh ink spilling
into my open book life.
Drown me in your love.
Gently, take my hands
and remove them from
my ears...
Open them to your words,
whisper to my heart
over and over again
until I believe you.
Leave no doubt.
Lori Beal
Too much thinking
gets me in trouble.
I reveal too much,
vulnerable,
an open book.
Others read
between the lines,
sometimes understanding
more than I intended
to show.
I leave myself naked
lacking metaphors
to clothe my thoughts--
emotions carelessly
exposed on my sleeve.
I love fiercely,
denying love given in return,
yet pride keeps
me from asking you
to say, show, do it again.
Fear makes me wonder
if "too emotionally needy"
will scare you away
before I get a chance
to love you.
Please, give me
that chance.
Say you won't go,
leaving me alone,
aching for your arms...
Once I'm there,
I will be okay.
Self-doubt
keeps me
from rejoicing
in your love.
I drink each
"I love you"
as though it's
the last drop of water
in the arid desert.
Is there a hidden blessing,
a silver lining hidden
in feeling so deeply?
It seems to leave a trail
of anxiety and tears
as I blaze through life
with an openly raw heart.
I need too much,
feel too human,
long for that feeling
of closeness to others--
then run and hide,
afraid
when I've given
too much.
Come and find me,
show me that
I'm special to you
--once, twice, thrice--
like a steady stream
of fresh ink spilling
into my open book life.
Drown me in your love.
Gently, take my hands
and remove them from
my ears...
Open them to your words,
whisper to my heart
over and over again
until I believe you.
Leave no doubt.
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem ---
Open Book
Open Book
