And if there's a future
Then it's not in this life,
No day or night
Can be the answer to
The question that keeps
Us on the edge, too scared
To pledge forwards or backwards
We could fall and
It wouldn't matter at all.
I want to be able to hold you
And feel you,
But nights are short and
Summer is shorter.
Oh what would my father think
Of his daughter
If he caught her
Thinking these thoughts
Lying and conniving,
Playing a role and earning
False trust in the name of
Attention seeking lust,
Not love,
Let's be clear.
But my future is almost here.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
شِعرWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}