When it gets late,
we let our words slip.
Our tongues go numb,
and we speak our minds.
In the daylight,
we keep our thoughts conservative.
But the moonshine
blesses us with the gift of truth.
I suppose it's a gift.
Although I feel as if
I'm slipping into an emotional cave,
one I'm not quite ready to enter.
Darling, I don't feel as if
you are pushing me over the edge,
but more that I wish to feel
the way you express you do.
But I don't love you.
And I know you do not I.
It's just...
With such powerful words,
its so easy to be mistaken.
YOU ARE READING
Teacups and Pens
PoetryA collection of poetry from my mind. Take from it what you will.