I've started biting my nails again.
That nasty bad habit is back.
Just like many others.
The smoking and the drinking.
You never did say anything about me biting my nails. But I knew you noticed.
You were addicted to touching my hands.
Holding them
Playing with them
Looking at them
I always thought the habit was nasty.
But I could never bring myself to stop, that was until I had a reason to.
I liked the warmth your hands gave me.
I liked when you'd trace your name on my hands.
And I didn't want my fingers to gross you out.
So I stopped.
But now your gone.
And I'm back at it.
It's almost as if I'm trying to get rid of all the memories you left behind.
Starting with my hands.
YOU ARE READING
Memories
PoetryThis is probably just gonna be a book full of sad memories to look back on my life. Like a journal that I post for everyone to read.
