Crying,
Yearning,
Breaking,
Burning,
Your hair,
Your scent,
I miss it all,
I miss the way,
You made me fall,
But when I'd finally hit the ground,
You were nowhere to be found,
I miss your long fingers,
And stubbornness,
But I don't miss you, walking away,
I don't miss wishing you would stay,
I don't miss you tearing me to pieces,
Or the way you broke me,
Leaving me meaningless,
I miss your hugs,
I miss your funny voice cracks,
And your low chuckles,
I miss your sweatshirts.
I miss you,
But I don't.
YOU ARE READING
Wither
PoetryFrustration, Anger, Pain, And sadness, We're all dying from the m a d n e s s . -Our Generation, Wither --- This is my voice to the world.
