I Want To Be Yours

I want to be yours.

We are transient, ambiguous, undefinable. We are more than friends; less than lovers, two separate hearts beating together, split by distance alone. We find ourselves longing for each other, pining for an intangible something we can only discover together, even as we push each other apart.

I want to be yours.

I find myself consumed in thoughts of you; drowning in your eyes, hopelessly lost in your smile. You are my music; the rhythm I restlessly tap along to as I wait for a sign that you are willing to fall, to ensconce your heart in mine. You are my greatest joy and my deepest fear intertwined as I love you and pray not to lose you, wishing we could love each other without reservations.

I want to be yours.

I am antsy, anxious, fretful; stumbling and prancing in a frantic, staggered dance of desperation. My hands toy with my hair as I fantasize about running them through yours. My cheeks flush as I imagine our secret language of gazes and touches. My mind dissolves into a distant haze as I dream about the possibility of us. But, as I search for answers to our puzzle, waiting for you to break the silence, all I can seem to do is serenade myself with the music of your words; falling further and further into you as my heart threatens to combust at the thought of ever living without you.

I want to be yours.

I guard my heart knowing that at any moment, you could break me, doubt us, convince yourself we have no future. But, despite my powerful desire protect myself from leaving brokenhearted, my heart unfurls unprovoked, primed to let you in. I lie awake, restlessly wondering if you will trample my fragile heart, shattering any hope I had that we could be an us. You float through my dreams without warning, teasing all we could be but providing no clues to our future, even as I long to be your one and only.

I want to be yours.

You are the key to my future and the ghost of days past. I wait for you; craving every bit of you, anxiously dancing my way through life without you, wondering if our time will ever come. You are the dream I fear I can never reach, but in my sophomoric daze, I can’t restrain myself from grasping for you. Take my hand and hold my heart, because more than anything else, I want to be yours. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Lives for red lipstick, high heels, 80’s pop, cats, and Oxford commas.

Keep up with Kelly on Instagram, Twitter and thepsychedwriter.wordpress.com