Maybe this is suppose to be enough.
These fleeting, yet satisfying seconds of contact
As if any emotion can be handed to me
In a paper sac.
Wrapped up, easily thrown away.
Maybe then, I wouldn't want anything more.

But, there are these seconds
When the moon falls
That I crave something beautiful.
And no one has yet delivered.

My loneliness stalks me in my cage
If only hands could hold mine
If only I had always known what I wanted.
And could execute my desires
And not be dazzled by cheap displays of affection.

My youth can only hold so much angst
And I can only write so many cliches.
I would like to be able to swallow all of this whole.
And let it wash over me;
Heal me;
Erase all these unrequited miracles.
Then maybe I wouldn't be so blinded,
Or let all of this consume me.

But, I am still just a girl
Who hands out her heart and skin to easily.

04/18/2004

Author's Note: he has left, again. and i will never be whole.

Posted on 04/19/2004
Copyright © 2024 Beth K Hannah