To many times has the thought of you plagued my mind.
While you're wrapped up in the arms of another,
here I sit firmly clutching small treasures of yours that you left behind.
My hands dance around them perfectly, exploring each one to the fullest.
and when the wind howls your name throughout the cold pitch black night, I will force myself not to listen to the steady rhythm of it passing by.
Instead I shall sit there listening to the steady beat of my tired heart against my chest.
Hoping and begging that this too shall pass.
So when I'm pressed tightly against a drunken stranger choking back your name as we kiss, I will melt into him.
Forgetting the taste of your lips until the next bitter ache to spark in the still darkness.
