Distorted Comforts

March 28, 2017

I don’t understand you,
you won’t let me;
progress made is starting to fade,
thinking of us apart for months,
then caving and
coming together so perfect;
mere moments of bliss
in exchange for this:
silence and absence,
things that I miss,
seen face-to-face and not at all –

Fantasies, possibilities
if these walls would fall,
but no appeal I make
seems to make a dent
so I go back into hiding,
determined and yet,
my soul aches until
I need you again,
and I give in.

It’s just distorted comforts,
wanting things I can’t fully have,
that I know won’t last;
wanting people who comfort,
let me down just as fast.

No,
the only way to stop this
is to end the madness,
to let go of you at last,
even if I’ll miss you always
like a ghost misses
her unfulfilled past.

Emily ©

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