Maybe it was the anticipation
Perspiration
no desperation
to finally get out the house
Maybe it was my ignorance to reason with my doubt
One would think that first impressions began with what is uttered from the mouth
The incapability to discover what's within or was I without
Cupid knew all from the start
That's why his arrows werent arrows but darts
That punctured my little heart
Until everything about him
Was eating me alive and ripping my flesh apart
// e.b.
YOU ARE READING
THE FUNDAMENTALS OF A REALIST
PoesíaA collection of my thoughts in poems that reflects my life before, after, and during being associated with my first love as well as my creative impulses. a poetic photograph of May 2015- October 2015. ***BEWARE PROFANITY***
