Fear

By: Malik Flemming

Don’t look at me like that
With those expectant eyes, that demanding gaze
With hope so heavy my back might break beneath its weight I can’t bear that

Nor speak to me with those soft words
Those sweet honeyed words of yours, no ma’am I won’t have it
You won’t catch my heart in that trap

And keep your hands off me
Don’t rub my back when I’m weary
Don’t swing my arms when you’re feeling playful
Don’t hold my hand as though knowing I’m near is somehow appealing

Perish the thought
It’s not my wont, not at all
That you should do such horrid, wretched things To play such wicked tricks
Don’t make me love you