I want to feel real.
I want to be the kind of real I feel when I look into your eyes.
Not some frayed stringed puppet,
But a flesh and blood being.
All blushing and crying and
Feeling and
Living.
But feelings aren't always the quiet blush of spring.
Sometimes, winter burns your face with ice and snow and
The once silent house
is now full of the weeping of the
girl-not-girl
for what was,
A somber song of what it means
To be alone and
Alive.
Maybe some people don't get a happy ending,
but I know I'll fight for mine.
I'd risk everything for a chance with you
Because you pull my strings,
My puppeteer
My flesh and blood love
YOU ARE READING
We Write for Fear of Silence
Poesia{My soul put into words. Writing is how I put myself back together again. Writing is how I love.} **all poems are mine** HIGHEST RANKING: #30 IN POETRY & #1 IN TEEN POETRY
