Unlikely love (part 1)

Sources of inspiration are all around us
But none inspire prose like love

You meet someone, see them everyday
You know them, like them, enjoy their company
Then in a flash, “like” becomes insufficient
The word becomes as coal is to diamond

It’s not love, you tell yourself
If it were love, it would feel more than this
And yet, you lay at home, sick
Lacking energy, feeling lethargy

The prospect of the next day is exciting
You can’t sleep, like Christmas
Every detail is analysed by the heart
Was that a flirt? Did her eyes linger?

And then you’re apart again
Time slows until next you’ll meet
The analysis of the day is repeated
And earlier meetings too

Note from the author: I have written more of this poem, but I don't feel comfortable sharing it here. Perhaps another time.

Secret salves

You have a tale to tell
But you keep it to yourself
The secret burns like hell
But you keep it to yourself

If you could share this tale
If you could set it free
Would the burden pale?
You keep it to yourself

And then you tell a confidant
Someone who doesn’t know her
And you’re reassured, confident
That this will free your heart

And yet, the urge to share remains
Your head hurts as if caused by it
And your effort drains
But you keep it to yourself

But you are treating the wrong ailment
Sharing’s not going to make you better
You know that evening meant,
Much more than you had known

Sharing a secret does not relieve
It only represents danger
For discovery would not cleave
A better sanctuary