It would have been okay to say, “No,”
(I know)
But the thought of being alone
Was startling.
Honestly,
Though I am guilty of hypocrisy,
I was glad of her presence,
Warming my heart
In ways I cannot understand,
Thus unknown to man.
We traveled back in time,
Playing games of childhood
And releasing our worries through words.
I did not mind the tradition
Of separation-
Individual blankets, but sharing the bed.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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