fearing the next one wanting in... leaning in to a kiss that may turn away in the depths of their grin... the uncertainty of luv lingers in the unknown feel telling emotion to be afraid... waiting to see the so called irreversible twist of the face shape shift in it's own version of the change... simply jus wanting to come to life is a task... as eyes cringe with the ripples that pull the lids shut so resentment isn't within the wearing of masks... as it's understanding comfort levels of reversible memories that stick around to remind feelings why they have become scared... self is the enemy covering the effects that affect what can n cannot be bared... having a phobia of tourists wanting to see the display as they have no intent to stay... n even if they did the wall is heavily guarded by nerves so irritable time is a waste to allowing them in to get comfy in what remains... the terror of unable to be felt resides in the panic of pausing before the horror show makes its feature presentation... for we jus don't take to kindly to the terms n conditions of the fake wanting to penetrate the security level of relations... as the heart forbids the resurrection of tenderness resisting passion in the middle of luv... there's a pain we admit to self that hides the vulnerability of what others wanna touch...
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