| Poetry. . . . sort of | ||||
| I loved the way you touched me, As no one had before. I craved your kisses. But not because they were from you. I realize that now, when before I was too consumed by your touch to notice the difference. I said I�d call but didn�t. You said you liked me, And I said I liked you too. But really what I liked Was the attention you gave me. I meant no harm. I hope you see That I�m just scared. Scared of hurting you. I said I�d call And so I should. But I can�t call now. Not after what�s happened. How can I face you? You who are so sweet and expectant. You�ve scared me to the bone. Yet you did nothing wrong. Its all my fault, don�t you see? I�m just fucked up And I don�t know why. You�ve consumed my thoughts Since I met you. I�d like to tell you that�s a good thing, But I can�t. I�m just chicken shit. |
||||