hidden love
“Take my hand”, she said.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Do you want to talk?” she asked.
Her sentences were simple, syllables bouncing off one another in a completely normal way. Each question and statement one of care, those friends would ask one another in perhaps a standard interaction. But behind her words, while her mouth uttered such things, her heart screamed a different tune. Her eyes yelled as she spoke, begging to be heard, and her shoulders slumped with the realisation of that perhaps they never would be.
“Take all of me, you already own my heart”.
“Tell me everything, let me live inside your soul and coax you into the light as you lay in my arms".
“Please let me in, let me be whatever you need”.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Do you want to talk?” she asked.
Her sentences were simple, syllables bouncing off one another in a completely normal way. Each question and statement one of care, those friends would ask one another in perhaps a standard interaction. But behind her words, while her mouth uttered such things, her heart screamed a different tune. Her eyes yelled as she spoke, begging to be heard, and her shoulders slumped with the realisation of that perhaps they never would be.
“Take all of me, you already own my heart”.
“Tell me everything, let me live inside your soul and coax you into the light as you lay in my arms".
“Please let me in, let me be whatever you need”.
- O
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