That’s when I become ignorant, when it starts to be you and not a
figment of my imagination.
Because I’m damn good at daydreaming, but God awful at
leaving it alone.
And my stubbornness doesn’t help things, but my mind sees
through the consequences of thought without action.
Thoughts keep my actions at bay, but I’m just waiting for that
day to come,
when my hidden agenda is written on my face.
And then I’ll have ruined something more than this, destroyed the
bliss that I find in you.
Irreplaceable friendship will be exchanged for dust,
trust for distance,
patience for frustration,
adoration for hate.
Me for him, or her, or them.
And I’ll have wished I’d kept my thoughts to myself.
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