Don’t
Guilty hands are held,
In the dark,
In the dark right where they are.
But perhaps wrong.
Falling as they fool around,
Falling upon falling ground,
Can’t hear the heartache.
With such beating sound.
Those that perhaps belong.
Finding their fingers,
Feelings intertwined.
Should have resisted.
Remained on the mind.
Instead insisted.
That to you I might belong.
If the timing weren’t so wrong.
Posted April 30, 2012 at 9:57pm in two ships don't poem poetry guilt love life yeah being india allen
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1 note
Almost had you for a moment.
Radiators, radiators,
When we sleep we’re radiators.
Lost in the heat as I inhale you,
Can barely sleep as I exhale you.
Radiators, radiators,
Our bodies hot pressed up together,
Sticky with sweat I bet together.
When we’re asleep, i’ll compete with such heat,
If it means that i’m sleeping with you.
