Mouth

Put your fingers in my hair

And strum.

Make me cry from the 

tenderness

That our love has become. 

The separation has been too 

vast.

And we are suspended on the

hope that it won’t last. 

I curled into a cacoon of 

comfort.

Blankets pillows, bedding, and 

cushions. 

Trying to soften the knots that 

don’t lessen. 

Haven’t you learned your lesson?

I writhe and slide, and weep, 

and bow. 

Need it all but can’t have it 

now. 

I feel you have stepped in and 

I’m left out. 

What is this feeling all about?

So use to the solitude.

Alone I can handle the cold.

Can wrangle myself into a 

choke hold. 

Can give myself some 

semblance of control. 

I run my fingers through my 

Scalp.

Hoping self love and tenderness will help. 

What was the point?

I’m all by myself.

A touch is a touch,

With or without.

I wasn’t as easy as I thought to

 lose my doubt. 

Swallowing trust like it’s good

 for my health. 

Is it obvious around everyone else,

I find it so hard to be myself?

I should go somewhere where 

I have it figured out.

And stop bothering people 

with my word of mouth.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s