I dont' want to be another one of your regrets, but i dont suppose i have a choice.

i'm not poetic. the term severely bothers me. i'm an architect. I build fanciful fortresses to hide myself in. it wouldn't make sense to make sense.

we don't need a reason, only a rhyme.



three words, four syllables. i des-pise you. if only you could know the embarrassment that i've felt this past week or two.

but now i have someone else to null my shame. someone far brighter and more wonderful a star than yourself. beautiful height, hair, skin and eyes.

what happens when we reach for eachother?