I'll still be dreaming
With a high hanging sun
Pointed straight over me
Until she is real again
And the moon
Can light her up
In the silent glow
Sleeping next to me
I still carry the smell of her
On my hands
I wash them over and over
She's still there, constantly
As if her ghost imprint is glued to my palms
My fingers, fitting in the way
We used to hold hands
She was that wish
That came undone in the setting sun
It'd be easier to loathe her
If she had any flaws at all
Instead, I sit
Dreaming of the day
She will once again be with me
YOU ARE READING
Poetry From A Caged Soul
PoetryThis is a series of poems that I have been writing. They are all different but I hope you enjoy them. I will try to update whenever I can! I hope you like them all. Thanks for giving my poetry a chance!
