On the Tiptoes of a Crush

What are these new feelings in me?

The soft flutters of hope

beating its wings upon my face,

willing my cheeks to rise while

trailing warmth from the heat of sweet desire.

A desire not long forgotten

but stored away,

tucked neatly within the depths of caution.

Ah, such feelings,

like drinking sweet nectar

to soothe the nerves yet

on its heels the

bitter sting of heart break.

Choices are given

to pursue or deny,

fall blindly in faith

or drown in a crushing

sea of doubt.

Oh, but the thoughts

that weave fashioned tales,

invoking suffering from fantasies

wilted to situations of rejection

that may never come to pass.

I stand on the tiptoes of a crush,

weighing belief and expectations

on the scales of experience,

tempted to indulge in daydreams

while heeding the whispers of reality.

I know I can falter.

I feel myself falter,

relaxing into the arms of a

shadowed affection.

Oh, such feelings,

like the glow of the sun,

rising with hope,

and setting when done

of its course for the day,

until the night fades

and I find myself once

again standing on the

tips of my toes,

yearning to love.