Mold

_{Fall into my arms}

_{Where safety lies}

_{Crooked, not straight.}

 

_{Their words harm,}

_{So, fall beside,}

_{Forget what’s right, don’t hate.}

 

_{My dear angel,}

_{Look! And Behold!}

_{Fall into me, be my mold.}

 

_{Where I lack,}

_{Pick it up.}

_{Where I’m Yin, be the Yang.}

 

_{I could’ve sworn,}

_{You’re a lost dream}

_{Angels so foretold.}

 

_{Never would I tame.}

_{Forever would I belove,}

_{If only you’d do the same.}

 

 

_{Where they smashed me,}

_{Turned me to clay,}

_{Hold my hand, and beside me lay.}

 

_{Pick me up,}

_{Hold me close,}

_{Angel, don’t let me go.}

 

_{Use your hands,}

_{Your words, your verbal touch,}

_{To melt my unkilned heart.}

 

_{Solidify who I am}

_{Through moldable you.}

_{Day by day, I learn from you.}

 

_{I love you,}

_{Though some days are cold.}

_{Fall into me.}

_{Be my mold.}

M.L.Wright

 

TBT to when I was a emo teen poet. Pretend it’s Thursday. It was more of a yearn for romance rather than written from experience with any kind of love.