Questions.

I hate not knowing what love means to me
to anybody
hate
the way your fingers make my skin tingle
and your words
your thoughts
your mind
I want to be inside

and I
can’t help but ask
when will your mask
fall off
and I
can’t help but wonder
what’s underneath

I love not knowing what tomorrow brings
don’t expect much from me
I’m on my inside
and undearneath

flitting inspiration.
unknowing motivation.
I love.
I hate.

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