it's difficult to pinpoint the moment i stopped touching you.
it happened subtly, one of those mornings
just before i opened my eyes.
and then our bodies didn't quite fit together anymore and
your speech became little pieces of dust,
collecting on my clothes.
now when you look at me my heart collapses and i can hardly breathe.
every word you speak curls me farther inside myself and
i imagine that this crushing feeling is your hands,
wrapped around my throat.
out of your angel eyes pours the devil,
greedy mouthed and insatiable,
possessing me.
love and hate hold hands in the dark and breathe in a mirror pattern,
in then out then in,
taking turns.














Comments
It's pretty well formed for an aborted thought.
--
Anyone can state facts they believe to be true,
but it takes a true artist to lie about the world.
there's a story here
~WritersGroup
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