Sometimes one plus one isn’t two. Sometimes you Look At a person with things That don’t add up, wondering Where they took The excess from. Because sometimes one Can skip the work, have fun With threes (Sounds familiar to me). One becomes two While you lose some value. So maybe Two plus zero can equal three When skills rub off Accidentally.
More than a fancy walk Could steal a man's glance And invite a sparkling collar. Or soft spoken passion compel the flesh To gratify its hot appetite.
To speak elegantly of this and that, And trap me in the stillness of your voice. All the while you trickle down my vein And melt away my heart's wall. Brick by brick, To my very foundation.
How freely you throw out these kind gestures That hang me from your words, And fill my head with empty waiting thoughts. How carelessly you stole this From under my ribs, With a sideways eye and a smile held in soft lips. To dance across the room And ****** it with a whisper.
I feel exposed, A bear without its coat, I feel vulnerable, A cactus without its spikes, I feel scared, A mouse running from the cat. How much more of my life will be stolen? How much more do they need to know?
You can not break What's already been broken You can not recall What's never been spoken You can not run When the spirits been stolen Is there no hope left To put any hope in?
I witness the cruelty I feel the beauty what hurts me is I'll never know if you see it too I hope you understand how much I miss you a life stolen from us by the everyday events that separate the way we want to go it feels as though we steal the daylight we share sometimes an almost guilty pleasure not something we should have a right to
