Dear _______
I have been dying to tell you
I can't wait to hold you.
I can't. I can't. I can't.
Your eyes comfort me.
But I can't look for long.
Because I know that the sandstorm in them
will take over me.
You will take over me.
And my eyes…
my eyes can't hold secrets.
So I can't look. And you can't watch.
Your touch shouldn't feel like this.
Like the air in the room
gets thicket.
Like cotton fields whisking with the wind.
I rise with the touch.
I blossom.
I'm falling. I might be falling? Shit.
I want in. And out. In or out?
I need to get out?
But I never send this.
No comments:
Post a Comment