Timing

There’s a presence 
I see it, even if from afar
I sense the urge to discern
Or is it mine?
My words stumbling, brain unsure
Do I fall in completely, because
That’s what I do, or
Stay in the quiet
Where I’m comfortable, pure.
Lungs, I beg, shout
My head likely to explode, if
My lips don’t leak
Upon paper, or find shelter
Within his clothes.