I don’t want to write you poetry.
When I write you poetry,
you become something to me.
When I write the way you exist,
I have to admit that you mean something to me.
I can’t write you poetry.
When I write you poetry,
I become vulnerable to your every deed.
When I write you poetry,
I won’t stop writing you poetry.
When I write you poetry,
I’ll have a stack of poems all addressed to you and nowhere to put them.
I don’t want to write you poetry.
Let me deny your place in my heart a little longer,
please.

Oh.
I think this is almost poetry.
Fuck.

So here is where you begin.

This is to someone. Someone. Here I go. |(Morsus Engel)| (via actuates)
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