She looks back to find nothing in it's place.
She never thought these memories would be erased.
Trying to run back over lines she use to trace.
She can't even remember the details of his face.
She can still see that scar on his left shoulder.
And that smile and it's wrinkle, even though he's not much older.
She use to know every strand, but his brow is starting to blur.
She can't remember his hands even though they were always wrapped with hers.
The shades of brown in his eyes have all melted into one.
She can't remember the night they stopped having fun.
His voice rings in her head, like a reminder of the hour.
She still remembers the nights in his bed, and the mornings in his shower.
She can't remember the taste of his lips, or the feel of his hands.
She can still feel his hands on her hips tracing the rim of her pants.
She remembers the few times he ever showed tears.
She knows what he loves and all of his fears.
She knows who he was, not sure of whats changed.
She knows she's still in love; love always remains.
YOU ARE READING
Better & Worse
PoetryA collection of poems about my love, my heartache, and the moments in-between. Please vote and comment!
