I look at you and see that smile,
But is it sweet or sinister, I know not.
I stare at those eyes,
And they flicker from blue to red.
What should I believe, the good or the bad?
Your touch feels warm and welcoming,
But your embrace feels cold and cynical.
Your words make me want to believe you,
But that voice, it holds me back.
Your soft palms trace my face,
And yes, I do feel a pang of love somewhere.
But there always is that thing holding me back,
When I feel those cold fingers on my skin.
Are you the devil or the angel,
I honestly can't say.
You may be the angel you claim to be,
Or the devil you want to be.
But I don't know, I don't know
What you are, what you are
To me.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
I look at you and see that smile,
But is it sweet or sinister, I know not.
I stare at those eyes,
And they flicker from blue to red.
What should I believe, the good or the bad?
Your touch feels warm and welcoming,
But your embrace feels cold and cynical.
Your words make me want to believe you,
But that voice, it holds me back.
Your soft palms trace my face,
And yes, I do feel a pang of love somewhere.
But there always is that thing holding me back,
When I feel those cold fingers on my skin.
Are you the devil or the angel,
I honestly can't say.
You may be the angel you claim to be,
Or the devil you want to be.
But I don't know, I don't know
What you are, what you are
To me.
A dedication for a friend who wanted a poem for her upcoming story
