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Jan 2013
I wish that you could hear my voice.
I wish that you could hear my thoughts.
This pain is like a bullet to my chest, and I feel so alone.

Can we find a way to make this work?
Can we try to keep this fire from dying?
How can I live without your angelic form beside me?

Sometimes I wish I had gone, gone far away.
Hidden, from the truth. Masked away the pain.

What would you do if I just walked away?
Would you stay? Here with me?

Is this love or is it lust?
I can never tell.

I thought that this could have been different.
When we met that day.
You were like a shooting star, just waiting to fall down.

And I waited for that moment when I thought that this love could bloom.
This could be a fairy tale waiting to happen.
All this is, is my attempt at love.

I don’t do it for excitement or for fulfillment. Or even a reputation.
I do it from the heart, and that’s all that matters.
Draft of recent poem.
Cam Arsenault
Written by
Cam Arsenault  Maine
(Maine)   
409
 
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