it's been days,
and this feeling
is craving for
your presence.
i don't think i can't
survive another week.
your absence
is making me weak.
oh please wait—
i'm calculating my own shits.
you're getting deeper
to my system.
am i letting you
to cut me half open
with no anesthesia
to numb the surging pain?
YOU ARE READING
ain't first, ain't last
Poetryto be one's saturn. [old poetry collection for someone we could never have]
