It’s all the little things
that I forget–
the way you walk,
that swagger
I think was there
but am not sure of.
Those little things
I remember.
I wish things were different
so that I could
wake up
to your eyes,
heavy with morning,
to your kiss,
aching with wanting.
I want you
to know
how I feel,
but all you want to do
is ignore the pain,
the need,
floating from me
like bubbles
on the wind.
You are disguised
so well in your coat
of faces.
No one sees the aching
lying just beneath.
You hide,
a scared child,
and I see you,
I want to touch
all the pieces
hidden beneath your skin,
all the shards
you fold behind your eyes,
the part no one ever sees.
But you push
and yank
and try to deny
this love,
this twisted mess
of fate and folly.
Why can’t
you understand
that we’re fine
right here?


Twitter mash up precedes. 🙂

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