Scared

What scares me is it's not about what meets the eye I've moved past enjoying your voice alone, to finding joy when we're talking. Shocking, how I'm even comfortable in a shared silence. From finding comfort in your smile, to enjoying each second of the moments that author it. Engaged to the point where I pay all regards to your mood none to the ambience. And it's more than getting lost in the compelling texture of your skin, It's about the glee with no end I get when holding your hand, feeling the thrill of the butterflies within. You're slowly lagging my priorities behind, Have to constantly remind myself it's not that deep. The only time you come last in my mind, is in the thought I have right before I sleep. With every contact it seems, your heart gets a chance to whisper to mine something so hypnotizing, a passionate spell of some kind and though aware of its effects it strains to hear, so it leans closer everytime and it's only a matter of time before it falls.Falls for you. I see all the signs. And it scares me for it's not about what I see to say it's just lust, it'll die It scares me because it's surely about more than what meets the eyes