You keep looking, I keep writing

I hated when you thought poems

I could see it, too. The tilt of your head, the, “what is it now” tone of voice. You wanted nothing but silence from me. That was the only thing I didn’t have to give. In a life so full of noise that sometimes it spills out, I can’t hold it in. Then, I gave up thinking for you, but it wasn’t soon enough. Your tone of voice had permanently assumed that tilt, your head swam every time I spoke. Whenever we were together, you had the sensation of vertago. It ruined our sex life, now quit searching for me.

You could always tell I was thinking, too, because of the look on my face, because I told you, because because because. Soon, you thought I was always thinking, always evalutation. And you started to project thoughts that I never fancied onto me. You lost sight of who I am for all the thought clouds, and you thought that I thought things that I could never think. You hate it, but I thought you should know.

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Filed under Frustrations and Rants, lust and love, Searchers

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