this is longing

after his passing...

 

my arms ache to hold you

have you

hold me

 

i sit and rock

my back to the door

its unnerving knowing

you will not cross the threshold

nevermore

i sit with my back

to the door

 

head between my knees

there, for some reason,

its easier for me to breath

the stale air

fresh makes me sick

you cannot breath it

why should i?

 

few memories i hold on to

none of you

not yet

another time, maybe

 

my arms ache

once again

hold me

Reviews

[Kat Williams]

great write that fits so many different scenarios...

[trinaspen]

ooohh, this one moved me BC....i am feeling the agony of this one...damn...

this part really struck a chord within:

i sit and rock
my back to the door
its unnerving knowing
you will not cross the threshold
nevermore
i sit with my back
to the door

again, all i can say is....damn.....damn, i remember that level of pain...
very well written...