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I feel better in the dark.
I say things, then, that I wasn’t sure of
before I said it

In the light, I tell them lies
But when I slip away into her room at night,
I only speak the truth

We met by accident
She didn’t make me wish for
         innocence
She whispered to me that things were better in between
  And she let me
     She begged me

Fire beckons me, but I’m in love with another
          warmth.
She’s too slick, but I love the sound of
       her laughter,
                her abandon.
She’s ready to hurt, but I love her
        protection,
                 her affection.
She offers me the light,
         and I love her darkness, too.


I want all of her, if she’ll let me see
I’ll stay, anyway
Until she gets sick of me
the words spilled from her mouth

here i sit,
as my best friend,
tells me
you have another.

i shouldn’t care.
but i do.

no matter how hard i try,
the poetry for you in which i write,
never ceases.
it just keeps pouring out of my soul.
it sometimes seems as if,
the poetry i write for you is what keeps my heart beating.
what keeps me breathing.

but now, what am i supposed to do?
her?
seriously?
do you think she will love you?
do you really think she will love you?
please tell me.

it’s hard to think of you with another
because we used to be so in love with each other.

it’s been a long time since we last spoke,
but it feels as if all the memories of us i have were just made yesterday.

you have another.
who will never,
ever,
love you in the way i could.

but my question for you is,
will you love her in the way you could towards me?

— The End —