Monday, February 28, 2011


Sometimes I think I steal love,
Hoarding it away into dark holes for the heart,
Keeping it like trinkets to look over on rainy days.
Feeling over the bumps and rough edges
That cause me to look at the worlds ugliness
And smile on it anyways;
That soften atrocity's into forgiveness
Convincing this frayed heart to be brave.

I am really not unafraid
I am really nothing
But love tells me that I am.

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