A soft brush of something--
Fingertips,
Or lips perhaps...
Across my face
Gently reassuring
That everything will be alright…
That someone is there with me
In the darkened abyss of my room
But when I try to hold on to it,
To make sure it’s real,
The feeling fades
As fickle and fleeting as the tears escaping my eyelids
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
A soft brush of something--
Fingertips,
Or lips perhaps...
Across my face
Gently reassuring
That everything will be alright…
That someone is there with me
In the darkened abyss of my room
But when I try to hold on to it,
To make sure it’s real,
The feeling fades
As fickle and fleeting as the tears escaping my eyelids
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