Your perfection is an illusion.
My faults are real.

'Trust' is the stitching
that holds my fragile
parts together.

Whispers of what we share,
like confetti in a breeze,
cannot be recovered
once carelessly set free.

Don't release me to the wind,
I beg you.

~~~

My heart is 60 percent dead
40 percent wallowing.

We have clouds of lightning and thunder, who needs stars?

my ignorance is your bliss

I saw you out of the corner of my eye,
acted like i did not see you
like my interest was not peaked.
I sat away from others, and thought of you
**** my mind, for not letting me think
of something, or someone beside you.

So I sat in the corner, curious to what
you were thinking and, how you were.
But I just sat there alone, weak.
Stupid of me to think to that I
could talk to you in person.

Sitting in the corner writing this,
and you will not be the first to see it,
if you ever do. This poem like most the others
I will hide from you.
In my little corner of this of this site.