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I’m caught see, it’s not me.

This isn’t,

why do I have this feeling of need and necessity when your presence is with me?

Let it be. No I can’t

 

Frantic, I must escape from you

‘Get out before you get hurt’
I wish I could forget and move forward but I’m being dragged.

You’re the centre that pulls, without consent

my heart my head and my soul

This dept I feel for you cannot be real, how is that?
This frustration is untold, I hide it well
.

See I’ve never yet fell,

and I plan to remain in the cell I’ve become accustomed to.

 

You’re all that I want, everyone and everything else is a different scale
This is a sorry old tale, ancient and dated this

It’s not supposed to happen to me,

I’m the next generation where we remove the uncomfortable things.

Why think of the impossible, does it make it any more possible?
Why. Why do you hang over me,

the deep swirling colour of your eyes or the slick skill of your hair or the broadness of back and side and form.
Why do I notice this?

It’s like a reflection of soul.

 

I see me, I see you.

You’re perfect, you’re it

I’m not.

Cunning Valentine

I like my songs low and sad,

Slow like how the wine swirls in the glass.

Deep and faintly fruity.

A representation of soul, or the attempt at having something close.

 

 

 

Falling fast,

With as little to no possible

time to think

Think, rethink and then overthink

Kill off the state of sanity with vanity.

 

 

 

Twisting, slipping away

While sipping from the glass.

Hiding behind it, hiding truth

 

 

 

Move closer and briefly touch me,

It’s never too much.

Clutch me like the glass,

Rely on it, rely on me

like this.

 

 

 

Hard love in this hard life.