“ You were a rhyme who mattered, a being who slipped all too often. ”
Making love with strangers is how you get hurt.
~ Dominic Riccitello
They always come back, but we don’t always answer.
I stopped writing in the obvious. I wrote how I saw it and if they don’t understand it, that’s fine.
I didn’t fear you. I feared us. I feared what could have been. I feared what could be. I feared the connection we had between each other. The toxicity because I could grasp the danger.
