I’m Scared (That I Love You)


The candle flickers bounce off the walls of disarray — the wax a puddle beneath its wick — love letters rest beside the bed. None of which she has read.

Tears on her pillow dry despite the rain slapping the window. A half-empty wineglass exposes her deep pessimism.

A naked whisper in the still air carries with it the faint scent of her cherry-red lip gloss.

(Dusting off Dreams #50 out of 166k in poem)

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