In Spite of my Alexithymia

My mind is void of eloquent words.
My heart is stoned by accusing slurs.

Alas, my voice is of one moaning in the bright of day,
Crying from the feat that acidly devastates.

How may I state this? I have hoped you saw through my games to the truth,
But now my heart capitulates for the agony your heart is sure to spew.

I am merely a wounded sparrow, striving to fly,
Under the loving gaze of your watchful eyes.

You outstretched your arms in a broken plea,
But still a cage, not freedom, I perceive.

I cower away and seek safety in solitude,
Oh, and yet you pursue!

I ache to open my mistrusting heart, and beg you to stay!
I wish to scream, "I NEED YOU!"...oh! I hope to God I am not too late.

Now. Tis only myself and the truth.
I will tell you at last the terrifying truth.
I love you.