I have searched years for something
whose true nature eludes me
The last night I held you
I knew you were already gone.
I felt you slip away
in the space between our words and bodies.
Don’t ask me how,
I only know you went.
What a fleeting and fickle feeling,
hope.
The idea perhaps one day we will return,
choose to stay despite the damage
Feb 19, 2024
Feb 19, 2024 at 5:42 PM UTC
I have searched years for something
whose true nature eludes me
The last night I held you
I knew you were already gone.
I felt you slip away
in the space between our words and bodies.
Don’t ask me how,
I only know you went.
What a fleeting and fickle feeling,
hope.
The idea perhaps one day we will return,
choose to stay despite the damage