I was wrong about your intentions…

June 19, 2010
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He spoke of love, and commitment.
And also the lusting passion he reached to over come
His breath was hot on my face
As I spewed forth my own list of regrets
I painted my life as one of happiness,
His masterpiece that of pain, yet overcoming
Vulnerability fills his vacant eyes
And his lips are still speaking truth
My advice cannot scratch the surface of his problems
Even as he helps me reach a decision
I am in awe of the boy beside me
More man then of juvenile mindset
His form pulled inward with muscle
Hands resting large there beside my leg
He does not touch me
He does not consider my very defenselessness
Instead he shelters me beyond the hold of passion
And holds my mind in the grasp of friendship

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outsider said...
May 6, 2012 at 11:09 pm
all of your poetry really touches me deeply and makes me silent in how good it is, please do not stop writing
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