Silent I sit prideful. Tight lipped because if I speak I’ll be exposed. I’ll let you walk out of here, let you leave to contain myself, but you have to leave soon. I’ve been strong, since you’ve known me I’ve always been strong, and people have left and that strength has not wavered. Then I met you and I didn’t care at first, you were a stranger to me, a stranger that I kept at arms length and if you were to reach for my hand I would withdraw. I’ve never needed anyone, outside of lust, I can be alone and enjoy it. So independent that the thought of dependency is like a foreign concept to me. So I sit here, and you set your heart on the table. I see it beating and how raw it is in this moment and I freeze…..because before I touch it I need to be sure I’m not that monster I’ve been on so many occasions. I have to see if letting you walk out that door will be painful enough to break my silence.


2 thoughts on “Laconic

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