I am deprived, as I always have been.
Deprived of love, deprived of warmth.
Deprived of affection from another's soul.
As I weep, I weep on my own.
I weep of heartbreak, I weep of fear.
I weep for I have never felt the embrace of another through the pure kindness of their heart.
At times I glance into a mirror and even I can see the love for myself in my own eyes.
Though I have never received that same gaze from another.
There have been some that I could see the burn of passion.
Some I could see anger, disgust. Some filled with sadness and empathy.
Though, never a gaze that could hold my soul so gently.
Never the gaze that spoke an eternity of words.
Never a kiss with pure meaning. Only ever a kiss with expectations.
You who would burn with fury towards the world upon the sight of me weeping, please, where are you.
YOU ARE READING
Moans in the Wind
PoetryWhen we are hurt, we moan in pain. When we are happy, we moan in soft sighs. When we are in love, we moan in affection and pleasure. All of your moans are meant to be heard.
