when love fools
and feelings permit,
so closely crucified
in lack of oxygen,
lonely would cling
to the first thing,
a validation,
a glare,
an empty soft spot
in need of repair,
some sanctify,
some own
shiny jackets of defense,
spiteful warmth against the cold,
emotions scorn
and scar the soul.
what i think i know
i will never admit to.
Very well written indeed. I don't believe I could have said it better myself.