Crescent Heights
By: Tyler Ross
Yesterday I found myself sucked in. You know the type of connection when you can’t turn and walk away? A two-mile stretch and I reflected on my most recent acted ways. Only so many words can lead before actions are in need. The wind blew cold. My lips dried and my mentality slipped out of control. Gaining a grip grew tiresome within the efforts posed. I never could rule out a typical interest encounter. Goes to prove, my attitude of nothing to lose chooses depth over substance abuse. Meaning, my tracks are covered, but my desires shutter in the moments of gentleman necessity. Truth is discovered. Is it I or is it always them? This type of thinking kills me to the bitter end. I just want to be loved like the man that I am.
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