To love or be loved

Tonight. As I cling to the plastic heated with water, wrapped in a pillow that lets me pretend I’m hugging someone that cares, I think of you. And how there is someone laid next to you, missing out on the opportunity to never let you go, by choice. And how I’m stuck, pretending it’s me. Pretending it’s you I am holding. Not a bottle of tepid water wrapped in an old pillowcase. And how I’m trying so hard to reason with myself as to why you avoided me in the halls last month, because that’s how long I remember each moment. Questioning why we no longer speak when I’m lucky enough to brush past you. Why my heart still flutters despite the ice with which you speak to me. And as I long for this warmth to be replaced by the warm of your bare chest beneath my soft cheek, I wonder only as to why your eyes dart from mine when I endeavour to hold your gaze long enough for you to realise.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s