Do not accept the ways of my lips but to only lock them to yours,
Refuse the wounds from the daunting thrusts of my words into your flesh.
Apologize to me for my own pain and for the salt and honey of your stolen kisses planted on my crying face,
And I may say refusing it,
"There is no reason for doing such, my lady."
Let my heart blister to the beautiful heat of its love of words
thrown from your lips,
Do not stop apologizing.
Tell me my self doubts are not mine that I may keep doubting me as I escape into your comfort,
Tell me I was your first glance at The Starry Night that I may deny it.
A smile to these cheeks as I rain down my insecurities,
Am I cold to Love's touch?
But may I be excused for falling for your loving embrace as I jump to feel your compassion hold me.
If I break you,
When I break you,
Apologize,
Apologize for being so blind and foolish.
...
"And with that truth,
would you still run
into my dead embrace?"
❣
As poets and poetess, does our self doubts and our need for the comfortable we tend to refuse hurt the person willing to mend us?
And knowing that, would you warn them?
And with that I'll see you in the if of then.
YOU ARE READING
Boy. Paperheart
PoetryWarning: I don't mind wrapping you up in my paper blanket of love poem promises to keep you warm from yourself and allow the depressing lines inside to give you a paper cut, I am a cruel poet. ••• "To indulge in your exi...
