POETRY THAT STAYS

Temporary.

There were parts of you i could never own; parts where she touched and held you for quite so long. 

i knew she had you in your wednesdays as you flew in euphoria, and i had you in friday nights when the liquor seemed to poison your flesh, your bones collapsing like walls affected by earthquakes and storms named after the ones responsible for people's destruction.

She had you when you were sober, my love, when you were escalating at almost every page of the book, and i had you when you're dancing drunk, lost, and in desperate of love.

I caught you when you fell.

But no matter how much i dip myself to hold every part of you, my touches just don't linger just as much as hers. 

my kisses were temporary; just to patch the loneliness of your friday nights, hers were meant to stay in your favorite sweater, hers were meant to linger forever. 

and no matter what i do my love, there still isn't a room made for me. cos since then, i knew it has always been about her,
her,
her,
never about me.