when you're not around
my hands do lonely things
they desperately reach out
for a pair of hands that aren't there
like lungs gasping for air
my fingers trace the places yours once were
all the places you've claimed
all the marks you've left,
past and present-
your touch lingered for hours upon hours
as I wait for you to come home
I get so lost in you
that when you're gone,
I forget how to breathe.
all the parts of me that I thought were ugly,
you kissed softly and whispered
"you're so beautiful"
your hot breath as you did making my body quiver
my palms press against the ceramic mug you left at my house,
now filled to the brim with hot coffee-
I was never much of a coffee drinker
but it was your favorite
and the warmth against my hand
is the closest to you I've felt in days
my own home feels overly vacant
while I'm standing right in the middle of it
everything feels so cold when you're gone
so empty
so abandoned-
and in the long and the short of it,
it just comes down to the fact
that my hands are good,
but yours are so much better.
-
lil note: I wrote this for my creative writing class sophomore year and it's still so nice and very relevant to my life right now and it's probably my favorite poem I've ever written.
