The faint,
niggling itch
which began
at the root
of my
subconscious desires
wriggled its way
ever so more insistently
up its stem
fattening
its leaves
attempting to
unfurl
perfumed petals
hungering
to
fully blossom
i stood
wanting for the sun
of you
instead
that un-scratchable
annoyance
still persistent
unrelenting
and now
becoming the bane
of my muddled
existence
the itch
i
could not
scratch
always
just almost
always
never there
you
will never know
that you
are the tickle
upon my
goosebumped flesh
the elusive
almost
the resigned
never
your touch
is
a memory
kept
vibrant and hidden
fertilizing
the soil
within my soul
i look towards the east
but the sun
has since set
i miss being your bloom
Tag: missing you
the rain
it’s raining and i miss you.
i wish you knew how extraordinary a thing that is.
the rain talks to me
softest pit-pat of drops against the glass pane
like
a gang of cats jogging across hot summer pavement
too quick to count
slightly silent
save for the rhythm
a staccato in unison
what a paradox
but it’s singing to me
and i think of you
your voice
(sweet songs kissing my ears)
your words
(drowsy mumbled love notes late at night)
and echos of
your laughter
(the happiest of dreams)
it’s raining and my arms feel empty
(where are you)
my hands restless
(i need to touch you)
the gnawing ache in my stomach
(i am empty)
my body is in a frenzied disparate hunger
one which cannot be easily sated
appeased
quelled
so
alone
i listen to the wind
whipping water
at my window
imagining
it’s you next to me
speaking to me
singing to me
whispering to me
instead of
the rain
But Otherwise Fine 