Page

I have missed

the smell of you,

I have missed

the space between

you

where words used

to sit;

I have craved 

the scent of you

when drowning myself 

in the drags of

reality; you. 

You, as flimsy

as ever. 

You. You with

no apologises,

you with no

judgement,

you with all

my life,

you. 

I woke last night 

to a banging 

inside my head,

I thought for a 

minute it was

you, nagging and

knocking to be

seen. I walked

to the edge of 

the bed 

where you lay,

page and after page

left open, begging 

to be touched. 

I showed you

no love. 

I have missed

the smell of you,

dearest page,

but I have not missed

your pain- 

pain! What an almighty 

pain!

I woke last night

to hear nothing 

but the insides of

my brain rattling 

about; pain!

I wrote a few

verses- pain!

I left you for

weeks- headaches!

What more could

I do than

sit, dearest page?

I have craved the

scent of you,

the scent, the pain,

the love;

the pain of you,

the love of you,

the scent of you,

the pain of you,

the scent of you,

the love of you;

you. 

So I sit to write 

this for you,

only I’m four pages 

down and still, you

drag me from my

own mind, kicking 

and screaming back

to yours. 

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