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Dec 2018
I've always feared the little things,
Because they're what stole my heart.
At first they'd sprout it's tender wings;
Then tear them and off, and me; apart.

So, I learned to hide my fragile self,
Behind walls that no-one could breach.
My broken parts on the top of a shelf,
In a box, that no soul could reach.

But then, you reached a lone hand out;
Butterflies broke through my ribs.
Ten-thousand words that I longed to shout,
Rooted themselves on my lips.

The little things will always scare me,
That much may always stay true.
But you,
You crazy,
You utterly absurd
You punch-something beautiful ******.
There's no better feeling than being terrified by you.
One I'm hoping to develop. Part of my #PoemADayToKeepTheDoctorAwayButOnlyUntilJanuaryExcessivelyLongHashtagChallenge
Pete King
Written by
Pete King  Liverpool
(Liverpool)   
1.3k
 
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