She is draped over a chair,
Artfully fashioned
Like a fine piece
Of silk.
...
Does he feel the weight press against him?
The weight of cold pressing truth.
Does it force the guilt from his pores like oil?
No..she sees it is light as a bubble....
...
My deck of feelings,
Only you can shuffle them,
Your favourite trick
...
I feel the energy building...
The gates open and we pour into you,
Excited for what you will pour back.
We are covered in secrets and sunscreen
...
He's seen Hell before
And this falls well short.
Does she think she can scare him
With this thrill for bloodsport?
...
I am not just a lighthearted sweet,
There’s a conversation I need to start,
I feel the desire to sit and explain,
The higher contents of my heart.
...
Your voice eased my torment,
The second I heard it.
Somehow,
My broken jigsaw of a heart clicked into place,
...
She found your words,
You left them behind,
Words from an inked bullet.....
Her love was declined.
...
Everyone has a sweet spot,
It's the thing we look forward to,
Something that fires our passions,
And lifts us when we're blue.
...