Writings of a Phobophobe.
As if diving into the sea
While a fighter jet flew by with uncertainties.
As if the conductor raised his hand
And the orchestra of worries halted.
He seemed to be her sense of peace,
Calming to the point she could hear her heart racing —
Unsure if it’s from the anxious thoughts.
Or the sheer presence of him.
A smile that blazes,
Sweet like sugar glaces.
It was not when I see you dressed,
That I realised your nakedness.
Your prolong gazes,
Like bolts from tasers.
They send me to places,
Like those with ming vases.
As we touched down,
Securities were tight.
Children with fake guns,
Couldn’t alight.
Streets were shining,
With neon lightings.
As though hiding,
The shady mornings.
Enough time in 362 evenings,
To learn about the dangers lurkin’.
Sometimes there’re gunnings,
And people start runnin’.
Dubious but extravagant,
It’s a complicated city.
There’s no constant — I’m certain,
We’re in Las Vegas, baby.
How do I get the message to you,
The one that says “I really like you.”
I can’t understand what’s happening to me,
And I really want to stop this.
I’m not really young,
And my soul feels old.
I can’t find any other attractive,
Because I can’t get over you.
I’m making no excuse,
That perfection is you.
You are my muse,
Oh, how my love grew.
killgwen 