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Michaela
Poems
Feb 2015
The Breach
Walk, Walk with your bare feet
to places I've never heard.
Lately, I can't seem to feel
anything but words.
Stand, stand at the crossroads,
wonder where you will go.
Distance becoming more than space,
as I had come to know.
But you talk, talk with conviction
about everything but me.
And I counted for a year.
And I cursed the miles between.
Distance was my occupation.
I tried to measure it with a pen.
And so I did not notice the breach between us-
the ever present end.
The breach that separated
you
from
me,
that no amount of closeness would mend.
Sometimes being physically close does not mean the same thing emotionally.
#space
#on
#distance
#close
#long
#moving
#breach
#proximity
Written by
Michaela
25/F/California
(25/F/California)
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Isabelle Perla
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