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theatrerose Jul 2012
Do you ever feel that you don't know what to write?
How can you expect me to articulate everything through words?
How is it all supposed to make sense when I don't even know how to respond?

Do you ever feel that you could be wrong?
How can you know so surely that I'm the one you want to be with?
How is it possible that you could feel this way after a few speckled moments ?

Do you ever feel I'm not worth it?
How can you still want this after everything that's happened?
How is it still that you play endless stings of harmony with me in mind?

Do you ever feel I'm just a muse?
theatrerose Jul 2012
My heart is not a stone
That can be crushed or purchased.
My heart is not wood
That you can carve into or burn.
My heart is not guaranteed
That it will always feel or be yours.
My heart is my own
That you cannot control.

— The End —