Dean


There were battles being born,
Wars to be won.
Hearts would fall victim
As boys would cower.
He crawled to shelter
The over-brush.
Her arms,
Warm like the sun-torched leather
She held him, for in fire
Her embrace was his home.

Although she was silenced,
He felt her pain
Through her words.
He wanted to read her
Every thought
Like his own Bible.
Wanting to fill her
Every kiss like a rifle.
She had made him bulletproof,
But she-
She could still pierce his skin.

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