11/27: i think therefore i am.

i think i'm willing to be torn apart

if it means her hands touch my heart.

my sole concern, though, would be her fingers:

my edges are rough, she might get injured.

truthfully, that girl could set me ablaze

with the lightest, most subtle skin's graze.

ignite with your fingertips, light me up.

if i've cried over you enough, who needs a fire truck?

she's aware of it, i think.

she enjoys it, i think.

so much power in those small hands.

between their crevices might fit my chance.

how much heartache can one squeeze out of a man?

but if my hands can't reach her, maybe my words can.

that girl is why i write—

they do say the pen has more might.

i might love her, i think.

she might love him, i think.

if it's not said out loud, is it love?

if she doesn't know it, is it love?

maybe i think too much.

maybe i'm yours too much.