Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2016
I reach my hands to touch you
in the worst parts
that you want
but i dont
but you do
but we dont
but we do-
the silence creeping in
just enough to rip my hands
onto you
and onto where you want them to,
heavy hands
heavy breaths
in and out,
tongue twisted between lips
and bad lies,
heart brokenness underneath blankets
and blankets of desire
piled on top of hormonic lusts-

I say that i'm sorry

i'm sorry that i don't love you enough to mean
i'm sorry
and to take away the heaviness
weighing down upon my lips
as they quiver and shake
because i regret getting in the car in the first place.
We Are Stories
Written by
We Are Stories  28/M/Florida
Please log in to view and add comments on poems