Morse Code

My cipher

My message is being lost
Limited as I am
to speaking sign language to blind men

When your heart is a chasm
any crumbs cast upon my calm waters
run the risk of a ripple effect-
often striking with the velocity of how
I'm pulled towards what I'm afraid
to confess

And the wait for some sign or some word
is like a weight on my chest

Buried like Love beneath the fear
of implications

When praise is a sin
teetering on the whim
of revelation

Author's Note

Please be honest