(Occasionally, my choice for favorite song from Dallas Green changes.  As of this moment, this one is the choice for Day 143…)

How do I end up this way: a constant knot in my gut, tied with uncertainty and with lust?

The butterflies in my stomach have gotten fat from feeding on fear.
They stumble over themselves.
Where innocent flutter informed me of the unknown
They lean, applying pressure to my loins, adding to the stress on my heart
So I feel lust and ignore the feeling I’d actually be able to love

Love should make one nervous
It’s grandiose beauty makes us question our capability to be its vessel.
But I’ve allowed these winged messengers of nervousness get so heavy
That I believe there is no room for you in my heart
Only space to release arousal

The sigh after we make love
Is filled with the relief that the omission love we created is enough keep my heart from exploding
And damaging yours.