Question
3:39 AM
Bubbling inside,
forcing their way out,
they reach your lips,
trembling pink tulips,
I see.
Questions.
You hesitate a second,
then swallow.
Those quivering little petals
hold them devils back in.
Why?
I wonder.
Maybe you know,
I already guessed.
Maybe you think,
I don't know the answer.
Maybe you don't want me to.
Maybe you're afraid
of what I might say.
Scared perhaps, that the way
might lead to your unnamed fears.
Afraid, maybe, that I might tell you
what you hope I don't,
what you wish, isn't true.
But you couldn't tame your eyes
My dear
Bloodshot, anxious,
full to the brim with fear.
They already did ask,
for the answers that you seek.
A tear spilled out,
as they met mine,
grasping in the silence, the reply
before reluctantly,
I could bring myself to speak.
forcing their way out,
they reach your lips,
trembling pink tulips,
I see.
Questions.
You hesitate a second,
then swallow.
Those quivering little petals
hold them devils back in.
Why?
I wonder.
Maybe you know,
I already guessed.
Maybe you think,
I don't know the answer.
Maybe you don't want me to.
Maybe you're afraid
of what I might say.
Scared perhaps, that the way
might lead to your unnamed fears.
Afraid, maybe, that I might tell you
what you hope I don't,
what you wish, isn't true.
But you couldn't tame your eyes
My dear
Bloodshot, anxious,
full to the brim with fear.
They already did ask,
for the answers that you seek.
A tear spilled out,
as they met mine,
grasping in the silence, the reply
before reluctantly,
I could bring myself to speak.
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