When a gun is pointed at you,
you are afraid of the gun,
not the one who
points it
at you.
                                                            ­                    *We aren't afraid of people,
                                                         ­                      but to the thoughts that have
                                                                ­                                            come alive
                                                           ­                                                 into            ­                                                                 ­                               words.

I'm scared of what you might feel
If you truly looked into my eyes
And saw the little devil
That sleeps within me
So don't look
Pretend you don't see
Instead only notice the sweet angel
I pretend to be.

These words are for you
They are the words you'll never know

Between these pages,
Whispers
The fated words I breathed
When I was certain you couldn't hear

Spattered ink
Preserved forever
To be devoured by one who wishes the words were theirs

You will read the pages
And think they are for another
You will never dream that
You could be the source
Of such wonder

his heart was cold,
yet his soul
set mine ablaze