Tuesday, July 28, 2015

After math

Broke my head,
Trying to find,
Reasons why,
You would love me,
There was non,
I could find,
When a voice,
Whispered in my ear,
"What is it he fears most?"
He feared death, 
Not having lived,
Being easily forgotten,
The most of all,
The voice called again,
"What is it he desires most?"
He wanted to be a part,
Belong in something,
Make things happen,
That where to never fade,
Into obvlion...
That was the reason,
The why I kept on,
Stonewalling myself for,
He had never loved me,
Solely the writer within,
For when a writer,
Falls in love,
With you,
When I fell in love,
With you,
You knew you would never die,
The way these words stay, 
To live forever more,
As permanent marker on my skin,
It became so obvious,
You never loved me,
All you loved was life after death.


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