Encumbered by the staggering weight of inadequacy
Opportunities lost due to doubt...
A brick wall?
More of a titanium cage...reaching fingers through the bars to gently stroke love's arm
But its back is turned, always turned
A chilled slumber of safety...loneliness...then...
A rattling and a thaw...
Why should these lovely words have depth or truth?
None have depth nor truth...
Drawn like an insect to sticky, sweet honey
Fighting feebly, half heartedly
Truth: Handcuffed and shackled willingly...
Jailed by strong silky arms, turning a blind eye to fears of deception.
