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2002 - October

17  Oct

Don’t

Do you want to love me?
Kiss me?
Hold me?

Or just watch me bleed
From your hurting words?
Make up your mind already!

I have been true to you.
Don’t slap my faith in you.

Don’t stomp my love to the ground.
Don’t take me for granted.
Don’t make me slip away.
Don’t make me seek respect out.
Don’t shout through me, talk to me.
Don’t blame me for the weather

Talk to me softly and I will listen.
Roar at me and I will slip away…

Don’t make me lonely for softness.

~Freya Moon

Filed under Poetry, in the year 2002/ Print Post Print Post