I wonder if you wonder about me. Do you think of me? In this way of which I cannot seem to shake the thought, image, sound and touch of you from my mind.
It's been so long since I saw your face and yet I could never, ever forget it. Your hand holding mine, your lips on my cheek, your eyelashes against my chest, your legs intertwined with mine in a spiderweb of hugs and love.
You once told me you weren't special.
You said 'There's literally thousands of people out there just like me' but that isn't true at all. Because if there's thousands of you's out there, where are they?
And if they exist, and are out there and I've seen them in passing, how is it I can still be so desperately in love with you, even now. Even still.
It wouldn't matter either way, because either way, I'd still be in love with you now. I'd still be fighting the urge to text you daily. To message you. To Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook and Email you.
And I'm worried the way I'm going, I'm going to lose the battle. And I'll text you something I feel, and I'll lose you altogether.
I can't bare that, the thought of it again, I can't...
Especially when I just wanna text you 'I Miss You'.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Broken Man
ПоэзияHere you will find short examples of poetry, from me, a broken man. I'm not as broken as others, but as a writer, one of the most creative and vulnerable things you can be is broken. If you have one take away from these, please make it this; Check u...
