Sunday, May 19, 2013


It's being afraid of what's to come.
It's holding out your hand and shaking violently.
Your pulse racing, your heart beating unevenly.
 The butterflies in your stomach.
Steady the breathing and flushed cheeks, she shows her nervousness.

The feeling of hearing the words, I love you, whispered in a large crowd.
 Catching someone staring, the somersaults your heart and stomach go through.
Humming of others talking, laughing and smiling.

Hold my hand, make me blush, don't ever let me go.

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