eunoia (unspoken poetry; book 1)

forty-four

and i just
found myself
waiting for the
night to come,
to dream once again,
of the things i wanted
but never had
like you, loving me,
reaching for my hand
like it was something
we always do

but the feeling
was foreign to me
because i've never felt
your hands before,
because you were
never mine
though i've always
been yours.

hoshi.