My heart is a wax slab
I'm warming up to you
Tread softly, gentle stab
Your mark, it's overdue
I'm warming up to you
A will too bold to shake
Your mark, it's overdue
I'm so afraid to break
A will too bold to shake
My palms upon the floor
I'm so afraid to break
The silence come before
My palms upon the floor
I trust you'll let me hear
The silence come before
There's nothing left to fear
I trust you'll let me hear
Tread softly, gentle stab
There's nothing left to fear
My heart is a wax slab
A poetry prompt from Poetic Bloomings. An attempt at the pantoum poetry form.
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