I wish I smoked.
Fancy a cigarette to inhale something.
Anything.
To suffocate the voice I grew
that left you speechless.
Silent.
The lingering of your synchronized heartbeat on mine;
a canvas layered in pain painted oils becomes
hard to clean.
You left me in limbo.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Until.
You're sorry.
Your touch.
And like lightening,
Forgiveness.