Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015
missing him is the prettiest torture;
a disease on which only he possesses the cure
now I'm starting to forget how to touch
this illness had infected me too much
mayhem in my mind, hear my soul screams
I cannot wake up with him in my dreams
cause every part of me is incomplete
I belong nowhere but next to his heartbeat
AM
Written by
AM  Jakarta, Indonesia
(Jakarta, Indonesia)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems