Doodling with Words #2

They promised a younger me that love would be sweet.
It would hold me, late at night, and listen to me weep
like a child calling for mom, or a wolf howling to pack.
I’d wrap myself in my lover’s arms, safe to simply act.
But that is not the case, for truth is never nice.
And a beautiful girl with a beautiful face
is ugly when she cries.

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