At this moment, I want nothing more than to kiss you.
And such is my want that my chest aches with it.
I entwine my fingers and squeeze them tightly.
I close my eyes, eyelids clenched shut.
Fingernails digging into my skin.
And trying my hardest,
Body exhausted,
I wish.
I don't think you want me. Trepidation and caution are not endearing traits. Nor is neuroses or worry.
I don't know why you would want me.