Written by Jacob Ibrag
You have words for me. I can feel them edging
closer to the the rim of your lips ever since you found
out that I became more than a pretty image. You’re smiling
through the shells of your teeth, desperately pretending all is
exactly the way it used to be. You rather slip into a state of
dormancy than paint me a picture of your phased psyche.
Yet I will remain an arms length away from your soul.
I am exponentially patient and want all of you.