You are too old, too spoiled,
Too proven, too mean.
They say that you have been
There and back and in between.
How easily you despair,
How easily you tear.
I can’t get close to you without hurting,
Without burning like a short fuse.
I can’t seem to do anything right
when it comes to loving you.
When it comes to taking you inside,
deep down inside,
Where it doesn’t hurt anymore,
Where the living is quiet,
Where the water tastes sweet.
I look at your face, your hands, your body,
constantly searching for the map that will lead me
to a forever smile,
to a kiss, to an everlasting embrace,
to the death of all fears.
I look at the walls of your room,
at the snapshots of your life,
I look for all that comes in between.
I look for an answer to a question
I will never ask again.
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