Crusted

 It’s been there from the start

The dried up crust of my heart.

Dark and hardened like a coat of mud

Holding me back and controlling my thud

The beating, The passion

The confusing reaction.

I look for you to guide me through

Sometimes I think maybe you do.

And other times?

Other times you’re crusty too.

It’s safe inside my shell of fear.

Not open to a single tear.

Afraid to find another mind,

That works and thinks just like mine,

That will grow together for the rest of time

Unsure if it’s something I’ll ever find.

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