Confession and Desire.

I wasn’t prepared for this.
A delicate intimacy of an unusual sort.
For a simple confession,
In the heart of the night,
Causes fear,causes pause.
I waited for many a long year,
For this fleeting joy that makes me despair,
Silently I scream,
For someone that’s no longer there.
The black thread around my wrist,
It tethers me to the ground,
And so I wait,
A spectator to my own life,
Until the moment is right,
Until the dreaded hour has passed.

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