he said he isn't ready for me yet . he told me that he knows what i deserve and that he is not quite who he wants to be for me . he said i give him so much ... but he has some improvements to make . he told me that if he ever hurt me, it would make him sick . that's just what he said .
and appreciation filled me to the tip of my forehead . i was thankful for his honesty, and you learn to cherish what you don't get much of . so, i sat in the corner of my imagination with that honesty and licked the edges ...i savored every taste and held it close . you see, this prophetic protector read the palms of my hands and stated facts . he told me that i had the power to make him hurt . he told me that he hated my past & he declared what i needed, what he thought i deserved .
like a clear champagne flute, he tipped me over to his nose and analyzed me, strictly from aroma . i felt naked, like my soul was bare in form . i used some laughs to clothe myself and sarcasm to drape my nudity, but he stopped laughing and said, "I'm serious ." that juxtaposed second mangled my mind from circumstance and i got lost in the mix . my destiny's map read 'heart, you are here' and 'disaster, two miles ahead' . i guess he couldn't see that smudge on the glass .
whoever said, "you cant handle the truth" ... was just too coward to spill it out .