personal · poetry · ramblings · thoughts

Your Touch: The Last Time I Held You

My heart
A glass figure shattered in million pieces
With a warning written in the creases:
‘Fragile, handle with care’.
That why a touch should not have dared
With unsure of hearts
And slippery hands.

My love
A barefoot child
Walking on that broken glass
With outstretched arms and stains of tears
Hope promised someone would chase the fears
Then she tips and falls from feeling
Get cut deeply and can’t stop bleeding.

My body
A composition of disjointed parts
Where the limbs no longer follow my will
The head is blank and it doesn’t think straight
The anxiety and fears roam like wildlings
The stomach refuses everything the mouth feeds it
The eyes are red and dry from pouring
And the heart just wants to stop beating.

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