Fear
You are on my mind tonight as I puff in, puff out. Oh, my poor swollen glands! Bloated, I am, burping unexpectedly, unpleasantly, yet still my thoughts rest on you, such is the impression you've left on me, such desires have you awakened. I stole your photo from your MSN to show to my friend. Was that sneaky? Perhaps, but I don't feel guilty. Why should I? You've displayed it for all to see. I don't care if they disapprove for all that matters is what I think. You spoke to me and in a minute, I knew it was meant to be. Return home soon, please! I musn't jinx this, no I cannot, for I always do.
I remember that fateful night in Prague when I walked alone, first in the park where the rustling of leaves, where the looming shadows, where the fleeting glimpses of the sinners haunted me and I ran for the light. I was scared yet curious and I fled because I always do when faced with a scary situation. I entered the dimly lit narrow alleys with not a person to be seen, buildings looming like the devil's hideout. I imagined criminals hiding there looking out at me through the windows and there I was, exposed.
It was like that when I went to the Afghani border that one time. We drove through the tribal areas and I saw huge fortresses with scattered holes in the walls. I remember that childlike question, "what are those?" He warned me not to venture off the highway which was federal property but I defiantly walked a few steps onto the dirt and I heard warning shots being fired into the air. I retreated, petrified of the hidden eyes behind the high walls and there I was, exposed.
And I haven't put myself in that situation with you now because I will feel naked, exposed, unprotected. And who will save me from you if you choose to take that sword out of it's sheath and plunge it into my heart?
I remember that fateful night in Prague when I walked alone, first in the park where the rustling of leaves, where the looming shadows, where the fleeting glimpses of the sinners haunted me and I ran for the light. I was scared yet curious and I fled because I always do when faced with a scary situation. I entered the dimly lit narrow alleys with not a person to be seen, buildings looming like the devil's hideout. I imagined criminals hiding there looking out at me through the windows and there I was, exposed.
It was like that when I went to the Afghani border that one time. We drove through the tribal areas and I saw huge fortresses with scattered holes in the walls. I remember that childlike question, "what are those?" He warned me not to venture off the highway which was federal property but I defiantly walked a few steps onto the dirt and I heard warning shots being fired into the air. I retreated, petrified of the hidden eyes behind the high walls and there I was, exposed.
And I haven't put myself in that situation with you now because I will feel naked, exposed, unprotected. And who will save me from you if you choose to take that sword out of it's sheath and plunge it into my heart?

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