I lie here still
Waiting.......
Waiting.......
Waiting.......
Waiting for your warmth
Your breath
Your hearbeat
I lie here for hours
Yet no sign of you
Tears roll down my pale cheeks
I still can't see you
Or hear you
Or feel you
So what's the point
I can't see the point
And as it seems nether can you
YOU ARE READING
❞The Art Of Pain❞ ➵ {Poetry}
Poetry❝The art of pain is as beautiful as rose petals and yet as painful as the thorns to accept it is as accepting being pulled apart piece by piece and still living❞ ((Trigger warning, some mention of self harm))
