When it comes, will any of us know enough?
coming in out of the rain was never reason.
and in this in between I have faded and grew and
I am not the same, save for my feelings.
Who is strong enough to strike first.
the fear wraps around my neck constricting
conflicting what could be love.
we call it that but how much do you know?
In the silence things could have grown out
of what you're wanting me to be.
To make beauty out of phantom isms
is easiest in your head.
I love you and still my heart must wait
for what? there are no perfect days
no perfect words. nothing that could say better
what one look from your eyes to mine
has already said.
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