Dying Away

Continuously breaking, never learning..

There’s a nervous little bug in my pulse

I long to cry out for your strong arms to hold me

for your pretty hands to catch me

because I’m falling

falling because you weren’t there

I put my feelings on paper for you to read, but you never will

it makes me feel better

it makes me forget how I thought I loved you

how you will never be there

Author's Note

All of my poetry comes from the heart.