Palpitations in Love

Touch that Cuts

I miss the feeling of skin that's more than simply soft & warm,
I miss the touch that cuts,
Lacerating my preconceived notions of love,
Hanging them to dry in the sun,
Licking the wounds & stitching them shut.

When all I've had is all I've got,
All I've got is not enough,
Meaning I'll waste another day away
Thinking about the pull of the leaver,
the wait,
and the bad luck.

Fleeting chances come my way in increasing intervals
While split second decisions are just as integral
Both feeding into the ever cyclical cycle of the slogging, viscous, never ending regret making & decision shaming of self reflecting that
I should've never let you go.
And I'm sorry

I just want to stop being so bitter about us
I wish I could sleep and find you in my dreams without the palpitations waking me up
I hope I can recover from these years of mishaps & ill tides
I hope you find the love you need before I die.

But looking at how our stars are aligned
And that I smoke when I feel like crying
It's going to be a long long time
Before I'm ready to be everything I need to be.