Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
And maybe my fingertips have forgotten what your skin feels like
And my tongue doesn't remember how you taste
My head forgot the sound of your voice
But all those things we did back in December
Were such a great choice
I could never say it was a waste of my time.
You were not a waste of my time.
And as I'm trying to make these words rhyme
I pray I'll get more days with you than I got.
Written by
Kristina  27/Genderqueer/Australia
(27/Genderqueer/Australia)   
269
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems