"are you feeling anything now?"

"nothing positive.
some guilt with a hint of nostalgia."

we thought we could touch.
touch that would enable us to exhale.
we thought we could touch.
but our touch don't mean all that much.

we thought we could make love.
love that would resurrect our rhyme.
we thought we could make love.
but we only looked perplexed when all we made was ***.

we broke each other up.
played pretend-patch-each-other-up.
now all we are is haunting shrapnel,
stuck in each other's side.