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Elizabeth Feb 2019
Can I be honest?
I don’t like sharing a bed with anyone.
I like a clean house.
A clean kitchen.
A clean sink.
My favourite chip is jalapeño cheddar and if given a first choice on a pizza topping I will choose pineapple.
I’m a light sleeper.
Very competitive.
Overly stubborn.
But I like hearing opinions that differ from my own.

Can I be honest?
It’s been a really long time
since I felt like I deserved anything.  
When we start to get close I will sabotage it.
An embarrassment of possibly feeling comfortable.
Undeserving.
Putting ourselves out there to be judged by no one.
They’ve long gone home,
Marriages and diapers.
We’re at that age.
We’re an afterthought.
Our life isn’t their prime time.

Can I be honest?
I want someone to go to concerts with.
Build a campfire and burn ever log with.
Be silly and lose track of time with.
I want to call to tell you nothing new but just to hear your voice.
I don’t think cinema love is real but that brief moments exist.
When everything feels comfortable,
And our love is warm like a sunset.
“I’m looking for someone to share those moments.” She said.

But there’s a demon on her shoulder.
It’s empty eyes gaze intently into his as it’s voices weigh heavy on her spine.
She turns around to see him.
Someone familiar, imperfect.
Unable to move she asks him his name
Breaking the demons gaze he answers and asks for the story of how she got here.
“Can I be honest?” She said.
“Yes.” He said.

— The End —