my hair is soft
and your hand are cold
my heart is beating faster
knowing i won't get your call
i keep on longing for
your childish praises
so i can keep entertaining
still expecting your touch
even though my contradicting mind
is saying to keep you at
arms length
i still feel like your sequel
the less than mighty part II
i must remind myself i am not
what you intended me to be
i am greater than your
seemingly innocent,
poison filled consonants
you have words of words of
daggers that you throw,
hoping,
one might rebound
january twenty six, twothousandseventeen
