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An internal monologue, on the uncertainties of discovering, and experimenting with love |
Everything's inverted, everything's confused I used to know my conscience, I'm afraid to leave him bruised Regret and guilt burn brightly as I realize my mistake A beating heart I asked for, unwisely did I take. Passion and desire, burns with joy and pain I found someone to want me, I fear I smile in vain Although his lips are faithful, his thoughts and touch he shares His friends mixed in with lovers, familiar he still cares. I wanted a romance, wanted something more A pair of arms to hold me, only me he would adore Something from a storybook, but no fairytale for me My prince is someplace else I fear, I don't know what to be. I feel modern and vain, corrupted but still A flame burns at his touch, but is it his that I feel? A sweet lover I wanted, someone sweet gave me his hand But as time goes on, I fear the fire drains like sand. Do I need a story, a character's touch? Is it him that I want, or another just as much? No other has wanted me, when he asked my devotion Was it him that I wanted, or merely the notion? Wine he gives me freely, I'm too young to taste Naive and inexperienced, have I taken love in haste? |