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My stomach
Butterflies
My face
Aflame
I can't help it
I don't want to
Blue grey eyes
Pierce
Red lips
Form
Slow, gentle smile
why
I don't want to
Love
Like
Or crush
I am scared
I want to run
But I *don't
Once upon a time,
I had a story I could tell.
But, now the facts have changed
and as I suppose its just as well.

For you see, I say my story
it is one of scattered dreams.
And, I was looking for an ending
that would sew up all the seems.

But, somewhere in the patchwork,
in the throw rug of my mind,
there was a loose thread
that I just could never find.

So, when it comes to taking action
you know why I won't take part.
For, all it takes is one good tug
and my patchwork comes apart.

— The End —