I know it's been a while.
Because I have that hollow feeling.
And I think about you at odd hours.
There is a need to hear your thoughts.
To communicate.
To hear about your day.
Or know if you ate.
And its instinct to pick up the phone.
To re-read old messages.
And worsen the ache.
I can feel my chest cave in on itself.
And I revel in it.
In the hurt and the way I crumble.
Then I square my shoulders,
Because I know its my fault.
I gather the pieces and sticky tape my faux composure together.
And I carry on with my life.
Until the ache becomes unbearable again.
The I let myself fall apart.
And I do it again, and again, and again.
Until you remember I exist.
•••
This one's for you dear ❣️
•••
YOU ARE READING
EPIPHANY
Poetry"I'm desperately trying to heal myself." •. •. •. •. •. I strongly believe art isn't supposed to be pretty, or liked and understood by the masses. Art is supposed to make you unco...
