I build your vocabulary for reassurance.

I give you the phrases my anxious heart needs.

I notice your voice low beside my ear.

I feel this reassurance words become more intimate than I expect.

I understand this reassurance words is already changing me.

I still move closer through this reassurance words.

I study my reassurance words instead of asking the dangerous question.

My body answers through reassurance words before my voice can.

I let one quiet reassurance words carry too much hope.

I hear my reassurance words become a promise in my chest.

I know the promise inside reassurance words may exist only in me.

I keep my reassurance words gentle enough not to break.

My fear stays hidden beneath the tenderness of reassurance words.

I wait for you to name what my reassurance words means.

I watch your eyes move toward the truth of reassurance words and away.

I realize silence is choosing what my reassurance words becomes.

I reach through reassurance words for one honest sentence.

My heartbeat turns reassurance words into a threshold.

I say your name before saying what reassurance words reveals.

I hear the words become fluent after years of practice.

I feel this reassurance words become the place where everything changes and nothing is promised.