Original Poetry

It’s crazy
I had this vision in my head
Of all the words I’d finally spit at you
When I confronted you next.
I’d break you with a couple of sentences
And invoke heartbreaking sadness in you that you never knew existed.
But as soon as you text me, I was back to my usual self again.
I tried to justify all the wrong you did
With a melancholy shrugging of the shoulders.
Because deep down, although I’ll never say it out loud,
I miss your hand in mine
And I know deep down, too
That my hand was mean to be
Intertwined in yours.
No one else’s touch felt as right
As yours does.
Because yours reaches through my skin
Through the bone and muscle,
To my inside. My centre, my core.


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