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Poetry By: Indie Skreet

D was a man of action, not words. He was contradictory. Would say he had no feelings for me, then return hours later full of tenderness. I was never sure what he was thinking or what it was I felt for him. I guess it was a 'sort' of love.

Submitted:Jan 18, 2013    Reads: 31    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   

That shy sigh I seldom hear

Suggests yearning to pull me near

Indicates illicit care

A rare hint you choose to share

Never say what's in your heart

Tugs at mine, pulls it apart

Makes me mimic every lie

Disables me to ask why

Catch of breath makes me sink

Pour myself another drink

Easier through a daze

Helps me through confusing phase

Leaves me pining for the past

It was over far too fast

Future I'm impatient for

Is it over? Never sure

And as I hear you inhale

Leads me down a lonely trail

Of isolation and introspect

Too much time to reflect

Think may love you just a little

Through exterior sometimes brittle

And though unhealthy state of mind

Eros is not always kind


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