all of me aches
and I cannot tell
if it is aching for you
or because you are gone.
my eyes sting, my throat burns,
my hands stretch out for a body that is longer there.
I crave you even more now
for I know I cannot have you.
I briefly wonder if you were ever mine,
but the memory of your tears and shuddering breath tell me otherwise.
you wanted this no more than I did
and I do not blame you
nor do I blame myself.
I wish there was a way to feel the warmth of your palms on my cheeks again
and I wish that those who wronged you had never done so
and I wish to hold you in my arms and remember that you are real and that you weren't just a dream.
every inch of me is aching and raw
but the only salves are you
and time.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 5:18 AM UTC
all of me aches
and I cannot tell
if it is aching for you
or because you are gone.
my eyes sting, my throat burns,
my hands stretch out for a body that is longer there.
I crave you even more now
for I know I cannot have you.
I briefly wonder if you were ever mine,
but the memory of your tears and shuddering breath tell me otherwise.
you wanted this no more than I did
and I do not blame you
nor do I blame myself.
I wish there was a way to feel the warmth of your palms on my cheeks again
and I wish that those who wronged you had never done so
and I wish to hold you in my arms and remember that you are real and that you weren't just a dream.
every inch of me is aching and raw
but the only salves are you
and time.
for the same person, written about 48 hours ago.
