No One Knows

Maybe it's the way you flip your hair.
Maybe it's your boyish look and your unwavering confidence.
I feel desire, I think of your lips and imagine holding your face in my hands.
Yet, I know it is something I can never have. I must constantly deny myself and pretend to not feel, to not want to touch.
Hiding kills me.
And still each glance at you takes my breath away.
But I am Catholic and this is my cross. It's is so heavy.
I wish I could tell this secret; I wish I could come out but I am afraid.
Afraid of rejection, afraid of losing the respect of my family.
And so I continue to deny myself. I pretend not to feel.

It kills me and no one knows.