held captive
in a type of non-verbal
communication
where a cold distance
forces itself into
the subtle breaks
between my heartbeats
there,  keeps playing
flashbacks of this morning
as If I was trying to find
a God within my bed ...
which seemed to believe
that you were the only thing
I'm good enough for...
as I so desperately
dug into my bedsheets...
which somehow seemed
to convince me just enough
that I was perfect enough
to hold...