To feel your touch and to hear your voice
Seems like such a simple entreaty
And to go without may so seem easy
But the smallest dose makes me rejoice
In the simple pleasures of a long
Lost life, caught up in this tidal wave
Of emotion, yet sliding around
The true face of myself, all my pain,
My concealed inward explosion.
The striking pain of independence
Leaving behind these many fragments
From another time, now just remnants
Of the person I can’t be, so much
Less than what I want to see, in this
Now void world, empty of your touch.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 6:08 PM UTC
To feel your touch and to hear your voice
Seems like such a simple entreaty
And to go without may so seem easy
But the smallest dose makes me rejoice
In the simple pleasures of a long
Lost life, caught up in this tidal wave
Of emotion, yet sliding around
The true face of myself, all my pain,
My concealed inward explosion.
The striking pain of independence
Leaving behind these many fragments
From another time, now just remnants
Of the person I can’t be, so much
Less than what I want to see, in this
Now void world, empty of your touch.