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“Could you ever be ashamed of me?
Sometimes I ask how could you ever want me.”
Lyrics so loud and clear hitting me
Triggering these inner demons that take control of me
I ask myself could you really?
I’d like to think that you could want me
But my demons tell me differently
You’re out of my league
I hope one day I’ll get over these insecurities
Because I’d like to think there could be a you and me
i wouldn’t say i’m cynical,
just a realist.
-a.c.b
He observed
her closely,
long enough
to see the
emotion
and raw
human in
her eyes,
he was the
one to hold
her hand when
the heart fell
apart, as the
moon went into the
bed of the sea,
he held her closer
In his blanket,
as she wept
close to his
chest, he told
her these
words,
“close your
eyes and sleep,
the sun will
rise, and the
world will
change
for you
tomorrow,
as the
petals
opening
every
season
to meet
the love
of the sun.”
In silence,
the lovers
then slept,
as the night
sang it’s
clandestine
symphony,
the heavens
whispered
her voice,
“would you
write on
your palms
the words
of how much
I love you?
If only you
knew of the
butterflies
coming
alive in
these eyes
when you
speak of
my name
with your
smile of
dimpled
stars,
In dreams,
you will
dance
with me
tonight,
as we
come
and go,
with the
lights
swimming
In our eyes,
more lucid
than our
musing,
the lines
and faults
of who I
was fade
Into the
warmth
of your
arms
as the
wings
of a
angel,
I, the
flower
of the
desert
who
waited
for the
gardener,
found
the soft
of your
breath,
I asked
for a drop
when you
gave me
the ocean,
I am forever
grateful to
you, the salvation
whom has shown
how I will love
once more.
I know that I
don’t possess the
beauty of a rose,
the ones before you
taught me so..

But,
do you think you could
find a way to love me
for my words,
and for how I survived
through all of the things
that hurt.

I don’t need your help.
I just need you to love me
while I learn how to
love myself.
from a secret admirer:

i remember the first time i saw you;
you were wearing that
soft periwinkle sweater i love,
the one that hangs off your curves in the same delicate way
you choose each word so carefully,
like each one holds the consequence
of each broken heart.
i hope one day i can
break down those walls,
show you how beautiful you are to me.
until then,
sleep well, la mia musa.

response:

i remember the first time i saw you, too;
you were wearing your favorite navy shirt and i couldn't help
but notice your ever-present beauty
past the hurting,
past those chocolate eyes that hide
everything you've pushed down for so long.
i would love to be
la tua musa.
la mia/tua musa- italian for my/your muse
based off of real life...
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