Might get emotional. while trying to expose the truth. Dozens of seeds planted but only a few roses grew. The bond that we long misused. Was our evil rooted issue. I dissed you. Hell, you went through. To late to give you. Love. Your critical. Budge. I hope my tears will do. But. My feelings are then used as tissues. Emotions? Stunned. Commotions? None. Less verbal and more visuals.
My pride is glued. To my feelings, So why would I give to you? Will it return if I split from you? Or would I die after I give this gift to you? Will it confide? Similar thoughts, taught to put aside . Because its more to me than a gift for you.
DISASSEMBLED