Probing, discerning to see my core;
I panicked as I fumbled my key,
Scared that you might be able to see my soul.
Would you be ready to see?
All these burning lies under my skin,
That flares-up with hostility to protect me.
I answered “I’m always in love—often in vain;
But I prefer holding my love in the darkness,
Afraid that I can’t let go—once I start this.
“Sometimes I think, I need a spare heart to feel all the things I feel.—S.K.”
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