Myself.

I talk a lot, maybe too much.
He doesn’t say much, he’s more of a listener.
Part of me thinks he prefers to keep quiet,
that his heart and soul are full of secrets.

I’ll start on a subject and ten minutes later
I’ll be on to something completely unrelated.
He sits and listens intently
(sometimes not so intently if it’s the late hours of the night).
I secretly hope he’s smiling, nodding,
maybe even blushing at the things I say.
Nothing gives me more delight than to amuse him.

I give myself to him every time we talk, and I’m happy in that moment.
He lets me be myself, takes me as I am. Even though he is not mine.
What he doesn’t know is that I’m myself for the first time in my life.
I hope he appreciates this much honesty pouring out of me.
I have never been this honest with a man.

Myself.

cch37

Orlando, United States

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Artwork Comments

  • rmcbuckeye
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