Scribam et ego Mundo

Memory Vault

And there I was, baring it all with every inch of my naked skin exposed to your eyes. My flushed red cheeks had spoken in the absence of the words I had failed to spill. Crossing my arms in front of my body like a child. Hoping to god that maybe in the next moments I’d become invisible.

“Why do you do that? You know I think you’re beautiful,” he smiled. No, not with his lips, but in his eyes.

In those eyes I had found familiarity. The love that never blossomed is all I’m running to these days. Finding your voice in other strangers and love in different pairs of arms because I feared, those eyes.

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