What I want

I want to write you love letters and praising poems. Want to tell you how you make me feel using words that weren't even invented yet. I want to heal all your wounds and comfort you. I want you to hand me your secrets like they were newborn kittens; blind and without hearing, trusting me to nurture them. I want to give to you, give, give, give, everything I have and just a little more. I want you to stop being my writers block, my a world away frustration, my uncertain future and... I want you to stop repeating the mundane and start speaking of the profound. I want you to meet me half way. I want you. Why am I so scared? 

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