Getting Late

I’m sitting here with you while I think of us once being together again not as friends but two people making rhythmic music with our bodies the feeling of those moon shaped lips filled with chocolate touching every place on my body starting at the top of my once innocent lips all marked up from the moments before this one the happy times barely outweighing the bad but its...its getting late

As you make your way down to my gate to heaven you soon realize that these gates won’t up once more like they’ve did in the past even though you’ve signed your name and shown your v.i.p pass they still won’t open I play the the images of the hell that you’ve left the damage I was left to fix and yes I told the guards not to let you in because I’m scared you’ll hurt me again I will not collect any more jar of hearts but it’s getting late

I’m afraid of the blacks and blues that I will have to cover up in order to walk in society without the stares and the questions of what happened to you hurt once shame on you hurt me twice it’s not your fault but mines for expecting the hurt as a way of true beauty I want to believe that you can change but I’m afraid that my standards of a man will keep getting knocked down because I bind the rules a little bit every time to fit who you are as a man but it’s getting late

Though I’m afraid of getting hurt again I can’t help but think of those images of us once being together again not as friends but two people making rhythmic music with our bodies the feeling of those moon shaped lips filled with chocalte touching every place on my body starting at the top of my once innocent lips all marked up from the moments before this one but it’s getting late