I pick up the stones I keep dropping
I miss the feeling of her fingertips.
They ran over my soul so slow, I miss her sound.
Her heart, the way it matched my words
I don’t feel the edges of my soul anymore.
The broken heart you left me with I’ve mended.
I don’t love you anymore,
but I wonder what it’d be like if I still did.
I wonder what it’d be like if you left me sane
I wonder.
Would I love the way I did,
could I face another
and breathe the way I used to.
Would it hurt me to understand,
to feel, to think about another heart beat.
Sometimes I wonder how this cracked
shattered and emotionless body could still function.
Do I care, I don’t know.
I don’t know how someone could be in so much pain
without anything there to hurt them.
You are a silent pain,
you are a disability.
You don’t linger anymore,
you don’t make me sad anymore.
And I think that’s why it hurts.
-k.y-
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
I pick up the stones I keep dropping
I miss the feeling of her fingertips.
They ran over my soul so slow, I miss her sound.
Her heart, the way it matched my words
I don’t feel the edges of my soul anymore.
The broken heart you left me with I’ve mended.
I don’t love you anymore,
but I wonder what it’d be like if I still did.
I wonder what it’d be like if you left me sane
I wonder.
Would I love the way I did,
could I face another
and breathe the way I used to.
Would it hurt me to understand,
to feel, to think about another heart beat.
Sometimes I wonder how this cracked
shattered and emotionless body could still function.
Do I care, I don’t know.
I don’t know how someone could be in so much pain
without anything there to hurt them.
You are a silent pain,
you are a disability.
You don’t linger anymore,
you don’t make me sad anymore.
And I think that’s why it hurts.
-k.y-
