Will silence hands me, time to digest
To convey what's needed to confess
Am I able to encounter enough rest
From finished deeds, indeed a mess

Teenage angst paid off not so well
Perpetual sinnings, hidden, untell
When every smooch, feels like hell
Sensations where my guilts go swell

Laid down to reminisce, or backfires
Moments to charge, yet mine tires
Kissing with passion, both were liars
Will ended up alone, covered in mires

A smirk hids a turmoil, doubt, guilt
Hazed, clinging the outline we built
Tend to obliterate, by a slightly tilt
Lovers re-emerged, covered in filth

© Dizon