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 Nov 2020 Grace McDonough
ryn
Many have come to pry me open.
Many have come asking for the key.
Offering promises that the doubt would lessen,
flaunting their oaths as currency.

Plenty have assured that they're not like the others.
They promised that their words were forged in steel.
They had come with nothing else except to offer,
their ears and support just so to seal the deal.

"Forgive me", I'd say... I am still a tad apprehensive.
But I do feel the need to speak...
I do long for ears attentive,
Not the ones which are attached to mouths that easily leak.

I know that there are such ears...
Hard to find but they're definitely there.
They'd be ready to catch my tears,
more than willing to show concern and care...

Yours seem rather reliable... That much I see.
They've come with intentions seemingly untainted and kind.
Don't suppose they'd take my words ever so lightly.
They won't lap up my secrets with treachery in mind.

Again I find myself here at the same spot.
About to hand over the duplicate key.
This familiar leap I hope you'd have me caught.
Please don't give away my secrets for free...
I pen a poem
about
a beautiful
flower,
and think that maybe
it is about a woman instead.

in disgust,
i throw it away.

not that i hate her,
the contrary,
but to me,
it seems,
a flower cannot be a flower
and a woman
cannot be a woman.
I want you to say my name.
I want it to spill past your lips while I run my fingers along the bend of your jaw.
I want you to grab my waist and pull me into you like the world might  take me away at any moment.
I want to feel you gasp as I slide my fingers from the nape of your neck into your soft hair.
I want to make you desperate for me in so many ways aside from physical.
I want to be the reason you shudder, sigh and surrender.
Let me be the one, let me be the thought in your head that keeps you up at night.
I want you to be the reason I am needed.

— The End —