Don't cut,
my dear.
Without blood,
how will you blush
when I hold you?
Don't hate
yourself.
You've nothing
to loathe.
Especially with
me beside you
every step of the way.
Don't pierce,
my dear.
Your heart
has taken
the arrow
too much for
the skin to
take the needle.
Don't drink,
my dear.
I'm sure
your lips
are intoxicating
without it.
Don't cry,
my dear.
I would prefer
that your eyes
were clear,
so I could give
the gazing
they are overdue.
Don't laugh,
my dear.
I may live
because of you.
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 3:21 PM UTC
Don't cut,
my dear.
Without blood,
how will you blush
when I hold you?
Don't hate
yourself.
You've nothing
to loathe.
Especially with
me beside you
every step of the way.
Don't pierce,
my dear.
Your heart
has taken
the arrow
too much for
the skin to
take the needle.
Don't drink,
my dear.
I'm sure
your lips
are intoxicating
without it.
Don't cry,
my dear.
I would prefer
that your eyes
were clear,
so I could give
the gazing
they are overdue.
Don't laugh,
my dear.
I may live
because of you.