You know me the best, my highs and my lows,
Witness my pain, yet no judgment it shows.
The scariest feeling, this vulnerability's thrust,
Opening up, then closing, in love and in trust.
Past wounds have left scars, made me wary and wise,
In the depths of my heart, where caution lies.
But perhaps in your warmth, in your gentle touch,
I'll learn to trust again, and heal as such.
YOU ARE READING
It's Still 12a.m.
PuisiAs the clock's final whisper embraced the dying day, darkness enveloped my room. Raindrops danced upon the fog-kissed windowpane. In the gentle glow of a dimmed lamp, I sat at my table, pen poised to capture the thoughts that flowed from the depths...
