Monday, May 4, 2009

Fog


As he hugs me close, kisses me deeply, and tells me he loves me. I warn, I'm not nice.
"Angel you are all sweet to me."

It's fine that you think that, but one day when I'm mean and I've hurt you don't be surprised. When I'm in the midst of an evil streak you have never seen such a calm state, I'm comfortable there. Inducing pain on people that may have done the same to me or may not even see it coming. With out a blink I will slap you in the face with the things no one should, rather no one dare bring up. Because the hurt from them will be to much, long lasting, and unforgivable. He looks down at me as he holds my face in his hands.
"Why are you saying these things Baby?"

Because one day, you'll see that calm come over me, eerie like a fog. The air will change and that will be because you're about to witness something that I don't bother hiding. And while it may not be directed at you, you will never look at me the same. Possibly never even love me the same again.
"Then baby, I'm willing to take that chance."

Your risk does not prove your love to me, as I'm not looking for proof. Before you build an idea of me and put it on that pretty little pedestal, know that I do not want to be up there.
While the sting is for a moment, occasionally the fall back into the fog is a memorable pain.

-n

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