I miss you.
We’ve only hung out properly once.
We’ve only had four real conversations, two were on the phone.
I tell you more than I tell my friends,
You understand me better than my father.
I pulled away involuntarily.
I regret not being so open.
I guess fear does unwarranted things to emotions.
I’m sorry for the way I looked at you last time.
Can I get back into that sacred space that arises from nowhere?
Do you think its ok for me to tell you my secrets?
You asked my of my heartbreaks, I kept it inside,
I’ll let you in next time, please mind the step.
I trip and fall over my confusion.
I let the asthetics of wordly opinion cloud my convictions.
I lost the sentiment of reality.
Was I Sleeping Idiot-Beauty to let you walk out of the room without a kiss?
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