stifle.

Every time I see you
my heart clenches up like a fist,
sealing up its many cracks.

Because I know if it didn't,
this feeling would ooze from me
like a thick and sticky oil.
Because I know if I let go
the feeling would overwhelm me.

I stifle the trembling ache in my chest,
since to let you see it is unthinkable,
and to let myself feel it
would be suicide.

But when I leave you,
unclenching these tired muscles,
hopelessly attempting to wipe the smudge of you off of my heart,
only then will it all seep out,
covering me in a murky sludge,

drowning me in the viscid mire that is
love.