Poor guy.

Poor guy.

My back has been twinging so I think walking was a good idea.

Tear at my heart

Torture my soul

Feed me with pleasure

Torment every moment

With the memory

Of your touch

The purity of your intent

The whisper of your gaze

Reading my thoughts

The sound of hope

In every drawn breath

The gravity

In every word

To fall from your lips

Each one uttered

Piercing my defences

Until they collapsed

From the effort

Of maintaining

Seperation

What does it mean

To waste time

Wondering

How to be worthy

Of such trust

When time is

Not the healer

Is the skin we wear

As self protection

Moulded to bolster

The need for

Its own existence

Once removed

Is it only then

We are truly known

Is it both strength

And weakness

To feel the pain

Of sorrow

Parting is never sweet

Turmoil is a miasma

It reeks of pity

Break through the pall

Of indulgence

Restart my heart

It is an emotion

In need of rescue