Writings of a Phobophobe.
It’s when you don’t reply,
That makes me wanna cry.
Did I say something,
That shows negative feelings?
Or are you just cringing
At emotions lingering?
At the end of this kiss,
You know what it is.
That keeps me wanting,
This man you’re portraying.
I can’t stop denying,
It’s now you I’m seeking.
A lot of laughter, as jokes were passed
Moved on to projects a lot more robust.
Change gave me hope, but left me aghast,
There wasn’t anybody I’d be sure to trust.
Tucked where mosquitoes bred,
Doris was waiting to be led.
Fifteen winters prior – under a stool,
You held your hand out to the whimpering fool.
Incapacitated swallow under a tree,
I told myself not to be.
Black sun of the horizon – those eyes,
There are lives in all them lies.
It was always you,
Yet you pretended you never knew.
Like how the tail fooled the dog,
Gotta run round chasin’.
Half completed wasn’t half unfinished,
Lyrical but they were never honest.
killgwen 