"Will we fall apart?"
I know you're saying you might leave, know
I can't trap anyone. I
run scared,
terrified of failure.
Disoriented, I don't do enough.
A better work ethic will perfect things.
Right?
Right?
Right?
You make my guts hurt too much to listen to.
Versions of needing to talk...
Well, this will hurt.
Indulgent repetition for my own belief.
Should I touch you less often?
Remind you (I love you) less frequently?
Please breathe around me
oxygen deprivation makes me see unreality
through a looking glass, dimly.
I want to see you
Face to face
under me, smiling
over me, screaming
I want you
in all your terrifying life
overwhelming ecstasy
but I can't just take you
You're not new shoes.
Friday, January 23, 2009
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:(
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