He is untouchable,
Unreachable,
But I try.
I poke and prod,
But his dark tangled hair that is his soul,
Gets my fingers caught in a tight grip,
And I feel like I'm suffocating,
From the exhaustion he has caused me.
The feeling of hope still slips through my veins,
Despite it's cracks and bends.
He can still feel,
His pain not gone,
But instead has run away.
I want him to feel,
But I am getting to tired,
To keep up with his racing emotions.
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Love Story: A Poet's Collection
PoetryLife, Does not wait, For you. It stirs your emotions, And reforms them, Into wings of flight, And it tests, Weather or not, You will open the cage, And allow yourself, To give up, Or if you will keep the wings calm, And continue to live, And underst...
