Stop.


You cannot adore me
So, don’t say it
You cannot mean it
when, as of yet,
you don’t know me

You have yet to earn the right
to see behind the mask
or to know the meaning
off all the scars

The past
that winds behind me
is not something
that you share

Stop
and listen
and help me dream
then maybe
you can know
the person I can become

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Posted on July 7, 2015, in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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