Updated: Nov 27, 2020
One more sword could be fatal. You can understand that I’m not capable To give you what you desire.
The truth is I'm still bleeding And my wounds just keeps dripping All over your beating heart.
You may never read this poem. Because my walls are pretty firm. There’s a reason I built them after all.
I don’t want to feel that pain again. So I pretend no to care the same.
But the reality is, I care too much. The heart of the matter is, I am afraid.
© 2019 Rebecca Barboza