belly fire your love makes me weak
I have not the strength to look at your past loves
nor to think of my life before you
I read back on my old journals, my old insights, and I am weak with shame
I feel shameful for the inadequacies of my past
for the stupid blathes I've written about people and experiences that now hold no meaning
I am weak with fear
that you would read here and think me a maniac
you would read them and think they mattered when in truth they never did
my love for you makes me weak
none can compare to you
nom i spent the week in bed painting 060327
what's it to you?
who go