I love him, but still I run,
with tentative tip toes anywhere, away.
Love and Fear can’t be unspun.
A volcanic voice shoots sparks like a gun,
but softness is revived by melancholy smoke.
I love him, but still I run.
An unresolved game, it’s never been won
he’ll roll the incalculable dice, but the
Love and Fear that can’t be unspun.
Broken words, the pieces weigh a ton,
brushed with affection and a trying connection.
I love him, but still I run.
Though never far, love’s never done,
but Scars can’t be absconded, and
Love and Fear can’t be unspun.
I’m sorry. I just can’t forget.
Please remember:
I love you, but still I run because
Love and Fear can’t be unspun.