Garb Of Denial

Sometimes I find myself at places

I never believed I'd end up again,

Like that very peculiar shred of brain wave

That signal directly to my heart 

To pump in some blood, 

And wait for it to explode!

That brain wave is curled up

In one of your "move on!" advises

Which I took for the love of god

And felt a lot better pursuing it,

Until the guy who held on and 

Fell for my explosion

Was never really the cause of it...

He fell for the part of me

Still in love with you.

He felt like you would have felt

Had I not been so reckless with my vulnerabilities.

Yes, reckless, cause calm is also a pretentious

Garb of denial,

Goucher with holes of silence,

That ruffled with your skin

As our souls attempted to hug.

Sometimes I still cover myself with it

As a result of cold weather outside

Cutting edges with shivers

Running down my spines

Every time he attempts to hug me...

Though the garb still lodges in

Cracks of his heart...

But, he isn't skeptical to take

That one more step

To rip it off of me

And cover himself around

Shielding me from the chills of milieu

And melt the cold shivers of the core...

What a sweetheart

Still reminds me of you

The garb is shed but the holes

Are still to be sewed...