i feel you
in the valleys of my fingerprints.
i feel you
in the tissues of my lungs.
i feel you
in every wrinkle on my face,
in the back of my mind,
in the atriums of my heart,
in the pit of my stomach.
i feel you everywhere,
all over me.
you own a body, your mind doesn't even call home.
you occupy a heart yours is incapable of loving.
you overwhelm thoughts incapable of thinking about loving anyone except you.
i feel you,
but i haven't touched you in months.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 1:06 PM UTC
i feel you
in the valleys of my fingerprints.
i feel you
in the tissues of my lungs.
i feel you
in every wrinkle on my face,
in the back of my mind,
in the atriums of my heart,
in the pit of my stomach.
i feel you everywhere,
all over me.
you own a body, your mind doesn't even call home.
you occupy a heart yours is incapable of loving.
you overwhelm thoughts incapable of thinking about loving anyone except you.
i feel you,
but i haven't touched you in months.
is it bad that i wrote this poem about coffee/a boy that isn't good for me?
