Malcolm James Furst
Words, words, wordsArchive for fear
Come on over.
I watched you step on through that door.
(Come on over, come on over.)
Took my time and looked you o’er.
(Come on over, come on over.)
I’d no idea you were looking for me.
(Come on over, come on over.)
Tell me girl, what’s it gonna be.
Wrangle me a girl like you.
Oh my my that’s what I’m gonna do.
I just can’t overcome my fear.
(Talk to me, talk to me.)
I wanna take your arm, walk outta here.
(Talk to me, talk to me.)
But I’m a chicken shit, you know it’s true.
(Talk to me, talk to me.)
I just don’t know what to do.
Wrangle me a girl like you.
Oh my my that’s what I’m gonna do.
If I lean to the left, I’ll reveal my hand.
(Walk with me, walk with me.)
If I smile just so, you’ll see my plan.
(Walk with me, walk with me.)
Girl, oh, girl, it’s no surprise.
(Walk with me, walk with me.)
My intentions are in my eyes.
There’s only one thing left to do.
Kiss you.
Social anxiety IN MY OWN HOME
As I sit here having shopped last night for appropriate dinner ware and this morning for food, and having spent hours and hours cooking for guest whom I’ve known so very well for so very many years, I am of two minds.
The one mind knows that these people, my people, will just be happy to see me.
The other mind fears just a bit that they will leave dissatisfied by my efforts, and by me.
The one mind is right. He KNOWS these people.
The other mind is just confused, but there he is, putting me on edge.
What reason do I have to worry? None.
But…
Desire
My heart so desperately wants to feel this attraction that my mind says to ignore.
I want you, simply… I don’t want you in any special context, or surroundings, but above all else, I need you, now.
I try to still my restless heart, knowing that when I leave this place, you will be out of sight and mind, but that doesn’t work. Suddenly, I need you more.
You have a name, right now, although you haven’t always had one. Sometimes you call yourself desire.
But for the time being, you have a name and a face, though you may be unaware that I call out your name and recall your face.
Perhaps you are aware of my thoughts.
Perhaps you feel as I do, that our paths might cross for a few brief moments, that perhaps the world is but a stage and I have a walk-on part in your life story.
Can I find the means to overcome my fear of self expression? I may need prompting.
But what if you don’t feel as I do and remain silent to spare my feelings?
It is far better to know that you don’t want me than to hope that you do.
But perhaps you want me, too.
Either way, I’m better off speaking my mind.
There was a young man full of lust, so full that he thought he might bust.
If he goes on this way, and holds back one more day,
he’s afraid that his pistons might rust.
Love, Diminished
I noticed you
picking over the vegetables
in the supermarket.
I hesitated to speak at first,
out of fear.
I thought that if I ignored you,
you might go away.
But I really didn’t want you to.
And I was pleased when you lingered
and I had the chance
to speak with you after all these years.
At first,
I feared my attraction to you,
I fear losing myself in you.
I am drawn to you.
I don’t know if fate has brought us together,
or if I’d just like to think so,
but I am drawn to you.
I recall wanting you when we first met,
but I repressed myself because of the age difference.
Now that difference seems to have faded. . .
and all I see now is
your beauty,
your grace,
and something else.
Something mysterious that draws me to you.
Something that I can’t put my finger on.
But if I could,
it would be lost in logic,
and diminished by discourse and reason.
