Friday, February 13, 2009

Real


Not all wishes are meant to be heard by the stars. It’s not like they really care. If we confide in them or not. Some just wake up old memories; others lull them back to sleep. Like trying to give away what isn’t even mine. It’s best to just keep it folded up in my back pocket.

Different reasons for different secrets. Sometimes we’re lovers, sometimes friends. Eyes blaming each other for what we cannot say. In the way short words can be heavy on a page like that.

I brace myself for the love in his touch. But find it easier to breathe when I pretend that this just might be real.

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