I look to you to find my answers dear,
But it’s rare that I find what I look for
In the pages to which your soul adheres.
Maybe it hides in the pages I tore
From you, like you tore out all that I was.
Silly for me to believe all your truths,
Not lies, per say, you think you have no flaws;
Still you took the innocence of my youth.
I memorized the content of your myths
But you make no effort to keep the things
That hold me awake and make me squirm with
Passion, exciting and irritating.
These blunt dimples upon your leathered spine
Confuse the ones here in this heart of mine.