by Small Treasures

There are days
I wish I’d not met you,
never tasted the metal of your words,
the bitter tang of your moods
or the musk of your heat.

There are days
I want to cut off my hand,
knowing that I cannot let go,
yet finding no other way
to rid myself of the ache.

There are days
when words typed
on a blank screen seem enough
to bridge the massive
space between us.

There are days
when it feels like I’m
pushing every letter through
the pores in my skin
just to get to you.

There are days
I would give all I have
to find out how this story ends,
because this is the one
I’m not writing.

13 Responses

  1. “There are days

    when it feels like I’m

    pushing every letter through

    the pores in my skin

    just to get to you.”

    That verse says so mcuh. I’ve had so many days like that. Feels like you’ve seen inside my head 🙂

  2. Sometimes one reads something and really wishes one had written it. For me, reading this was one of those moments. I read this so many times that the distinctions between reading it, writing it and experiencing it seemed to blur to the point that I simply lived it.

    It is wonderful.

  3. Beyond lovely. This is the part that gets me:

    “There are days

    I would give all I have

    to find out how this story ends,

    because this is the one

    I’m not writing.”

    Oh, the futility of that. Thanks for sharing and getting my mind its proper exercise.

  4. This is so agonizingly honest — and reminds me how much of ourselves we waste on others who would never do the same for us, who will never know or appreciate what it is to feel this way. Feelings become a waste, a wasteland.

    Beautiful, sad, complete.

    DJ

  5. Truly heartfelt. I used to write poetry like this. I find that I’m only really inspired when I’m feeling tortured though, and it has been some time since. 🙂

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