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He feels something is wrong. even while he sleeps a distance he cannot cross when his eyes are closed but open when her body lies beside him yet never within his reach. He can feel her sadness through him,
 while her silence grows heavy. 
He doesn’t know what to do
 with hands she will not hold, 
with lips that turn away,
 with a heart that stiffens at his touch. At night he hears the whispers when she thinks that he is dreaming,
 her secret sighs when she believes he’s gone. and the hidden lump beneath them. As small as a secret, but sharp as a thorn, a toy she turns to 
where his love cannot follow. Why not him?
 Why not the man who longs 
to give her everything?
 He doesn’t understand.
 why she cannot bear his touch. She tends to herself in silence,
 while he lies awake pretending to sleep aching over a love
 and lust he cannot mend.
0
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 12:54 AM UTC
The Prince and the Pea
He feels something is wrong. even while he sleeps a distance he cannot cross when his eyes are closed but open when her body lies beside him yet never within his reach. He can feel her sadness through him,
 while her silence grows heavy. 
He doesn’t know what to do
 with hands she will not hold, 
with lips that turn away,
 with a heart that stiffens at his touch. At night he hears the whispers when she thinks that he is dreaming,
 her secret sighs when she believes he’s gone. and the hidden lump beneath them. As small as a secret, but sharp as a thorn, a toy she turns to 
where his love cannot follow. Why not him?
 Why not the man who longs 
to give her everything?
 He doesn’t understand.
 why she cannot bear his touch. She tends to herself in silence,
 while he lies awake pretending to sleep aching over a love
 and lust he cannot mend.
it’s been a while since I’ve turned poetry I feel like my poems are only good if I’m feeling sad.
kathryn5447
Written by
21/F/Texas
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 12:54 AM UTC
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