Thursday, 27 January 2011
Fear or Truth?
And he begs you to share, to open up... ''I want to know everything about you'' he breathes into you late at night, when you are too tired and too comfortable in his arms to keep up your defences anyway.
''I want to know everything.'' And so day by day the bricks disintegrate, crumbling into pieces and falling from the sky in a way that makes you have to bend, and weave, and dodge them. In a way you never thought possible.
So you start to show the 'real' you. The one you thought you had murdered (Were a thousand stabbings not enough? A thousand scars, thousand pills, thousand fatal [they MUST have been fatal] gunshots?) But she has somehow been resurrected, like a crazy version of the past you almost forgot existed.
And you start to show your anxieties, the ones you pretended to him (and to yourself) did not exist.
And he starts to back away
One foot behind the other,
As if to avoid awakening a sleeping beast.
But is this the fear or the truth talking?
You have no proof.
Only that that is how you feel about your own emotions
The ones you deem