Everything I'm Not Saying

Weakness is relative.

I've fought a thousand skirmishes

and won a thousand scrapes

without a whimper.

Argued over religion

against bishops and pastors

before I came of age

to vote.

Read two thousand books

before the age of twelve

without so much as

one assignment

to dull the joy of reading.

Yet you make me weak

with one glance.

You make me forget

carefully prepared words

and make me withdraw into myself,

as if that could keep my feelings

safe and hidden.

And your sleek, knowing smile

makes me melt every time

you're nice enough to blind me with it.

You are my only weakness.

But I think you already know.

-For R