When you kissed me, I lied.
I let you kiss me because I wanted someone to love me.
I was selfish, I wanted to soothe my craving for attention, soft and kind love.
It’s because you’re warm and safe, I still do get the urge to trust you with love.
In fact you’re handsome while so insecure.
But I shouldn’t have kissed you, because I knew I didn’t want you but your aroma.
I chewed it and played with it to spare your feelings and to ebb my shame
but believe me, I’m happy to have made your acquaintance on that awful day that appeared on paper as perfect.
On the day when the last one I loved, introduced me to you
My poems have started taking sound of a prose?, not sure where it came from