I love it when you love me,
As your hands caress my back,
and whittle down my spine
and carve away my sides
I love it when you love me
when I can love myself,
the river flows,
raftless
I love it when you love me,
when I'm not afraid,
the dark is not so bright,
as light
I love it when you love me,
through experience,
love doth fray
a slip knot
I love it when you love me,
for when I feel able,
life is surmounted
with a horse astride my heart,
it shines
Because I love it when you love me
as the climb is over,
before it begins
and I have fallen
before I stand
or understood
I love it when you love me,
to feel, to be real,
to validate and assure
my insecurity
I love it when you love me,
a backwash of colour,
of gorgeous splendour,
is the acrylic
I love it when you love me,
in such a way,
that does undermine
teachings of time,
that hisses with sanguine
But I love it when you hate me
as I know
I am still alive
I am here
About the Creator
Ben Attwood
An aspiring Doctor, Writer and exaspirationalist. Realism, the sombre, humour and the profound.
Check back regularly for whatever I feel like writing about; at least a piece a week!
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