A sweet face, which is that of her sun-kissed skin, I wrote off as having sailed misdated her plane ticket until the date of Valentines' Day. Rearranging plans, changing demands with the promise of a platonic french kiss as the blood beneath my thin skin boils with what she knows that I don't wanna know. And no, don't go, just know when you're staring at the ceiling, the lights I hit are waiting like a spotlight just for you is who.
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The Lonely Position of Neutral
PoetryBen's throat cancer has returned. Living a lonely life, he found a woman he loves but finds out she's been unfaithful. Ben starts to think the lonely position of neutral isn't that bad. He writes poems and dialogue narratives. Will Ben survive cance...
