those days when i'm away
and i miss your open arms
those days when you say first:
"i miss you"
those quiet, sad and slower days.
i'll hold this till the dawn
against my skin, against my nose,
the ghost of the feel of you.
my hands will always itch for you,
but today,
this is okay too.
YOU ARE READING
Language of Mine
Poetrypoetry to kill my dreams some of it is boring can't remember which ones are my favorites
