The sight of you
plagues my mind,
like the scarring of a stubborn sore.
Your nasty words ringing loud in my head,
like the hum of an undying bell.
But once again,
here we are
as your lips play tricks against my exposed skin,
your kisses burning hot,
while your hands look for their comfort space
around my waist.
But oh what a waste,
that a connection
once as beautiful as the inking that snakes it's way around your bare body,
now sits with open wounds,
as we so desperately cling to the nakedness
of one another.
Oh what a waste,
that a love once so pure,
became infected
with the lies of what could have been.
Once again,
we sit here
tongue to skin
as your hands play in my hair
and I melt into your arms
at the thoughts of what could be.
- r.m
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of you.
PoetryA collection of poems I have, and will be writing. All of these pieces are all of mine.
