For you, Boy Born in Darkness.

Take me down, mis read fondness.
Cut me off at the knees.
Stab me with defensive words,
Bludgeon me, until those words bleed.
And then forgive me,
For showing you the blood on my hands.
Forgive me for not understanding
why actions mean less than wounds,
that are self inflicted
demonstrations.
Calculated beauty, in connection
even if poor sense of direction.
I say what I mean,
and I mean what I say.
Even if that means you choke.
Because if I don’t, all I have is flattery
and insincere kindness.
And you know,
Thats not how I show
care.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s