Puffy eyes.
Dang what did I do?
Remembering the convulsions on my chest:
The tears rolling uncontrollably
Whispering to myself
"I will tell him,
I will confess."
As the dawn breaks and I drift to a weary sleep
In the morning, as the scars of last night surfaces
I told myself how weird I am.
Then fear crept in
and worry.
Because the longing
captures me whole
at night.
But yes, which is better?
Where am I truer to myself?
Who holds the answer?
Should I tell you
so I can get that closure?
Will it be a mistake
to tell you everything?
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