Mourning the losses of what I don’t understand.
Why do I crumble when he just moves his hand?
A catapult of lies,
A tangle he weaves.
A breath of his air,
I drop to my knees.
The breaking of hearts so easily done,
Snap back to the past, where this ache does come from.
The kissing of words,
Chills up my spine,
Another night restless,
As he plays with my mind.
Cry out of the joy past the pain and the torment.
Remember the mourning for all that it meant.
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