When I come to you
in silent passion,
you think you know me,
but you don't see
the questions, the fears
that reside inside.
When I come to you
in shades of black,
you think you see me,
but you don't see
the innocence, the tears
that hide inside.
This heart of mine
is a fragile thing;
I box it up neatly and
tie it with string.
So hard to get to,
no matter how hard you try.
It fears the pain,
so it lives a lie.
This heart of mine weeps
for what has come before.
Gentle wind blows,
then closes the door.
Lost in shadow,
plagued by fears,
this heart of mine stumbles,
tripping on tears.
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Comments: 16
little songs of dawn
Only I have become weary of seeking love. I have given up and resigned myself to living alone, seeking sex with friends when I need it - rather like a man. My heart is tired of silent weeping for both the old - and the new.
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
Good stuff
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting