i knew she was a risk,
or, at least, did risky things,
involving risky situations,
in which only the young partake.
yet still i built something with her,
thus painting a target on my heart,
even though my hope was tenuous,
like a trembling house of cards.
sometimes late at night, silent night,
i imagine the worst occurring,
stay up thinking about how i'd react,
scare myself with what i find.
my blank stares while i think mirror
the emptiness i conjure would exist,
and when asked if everything's alright,
i tell my most common lie: "i'm fine."
No comments:
Post a Comment