Your arms wrap around me
As I twist and turn in bed
Hot breath on my neck
And sharp claws in my sides
Hours on hours, you listen
My voice is hoarse from use
Spilling my broken thoughts and morbid stories
Waiting for the day you'll talk back
Some nights I wonder if you're truly there
The arms on my waist are as light as smoke -
Almost as transparent
When will you show yourself?
The clock ticks loudly
Flipping in bed, hoping to catch a glimpse
Convince myself I'm not crazy
But you're not there
And I fall into another dreamless sleep
YOU ARE READING
We Became The Mad Men
PoetryI must wash the blood off my hands and the only way is with ink ~ Collection of my poetry.
