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.
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