You talked in touch when all I really wanted was to hear the sound of your voice. When the only words we spoke were in between sighs I knew you could never feel the same. You stained my lips with empty words and a hope so strong I eventually broke. The worst part isn’t the promises I thought I saw in your eyes but that I actually believed any of them. My fingertips long for the touch of your skin, to be glued to the inside of your palm where they felt like they belonged. An absence unexplainable because you weren’t even mine to begin with. I felt at home when you wrapped your arms around me so tight I couldn’t breathe, in the best possible way. You taught me what it’s like to miss something so much it hurts, and I’m still here trying to figure out if that’s a bad thing.