The Good Paranoia
By natb17
Bound to him he draws me in His skylit eyes possess me His hands secure me at slightest grip The thought of his simple grins deliver the sweet nostalgia of solace It is here that I dwell in everlasting contentment And then he speaks: Tender words caress my heart He now holds me in the palm of his hand Both the power to break me or build me My heart surrenders as blessings are counted I'm left to fear the day I shall long for him alone... Written March 19th, 2002 © on Mar 19 2002 01:12 AM PST 0 • 8
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"Bound to him he draws me in..."