You took form behind heavy lids, tired of
this world,
You flashed and glimmered, something cried
for me to look.
Beauty was the tattoo you had scrawled on
your left arm,
The handwriting of a child,
A sloppy y, with an attempt at finesse, but
oh how lovely.
I watched as you sat down, and weird action,
As a dainty flower flopped into a chair,
Something I shall never see again, nor wish too.
And when your gaze finally swept up mine,
I was hit.
Something hard and strong slammed me
against my chair,
And I was shocked to think you had hit me,
But it happened again and still your hand never reached for me,
No matter how much I begged for it to hold mine.
I had never felt my heartbeat before, now I was lost in it.
They say awareness never ends, and now to feel your breath
Against my cheek in this dark room is a drug,
And not for a second did I think to move, nor want to, for fear I would wake you,
As you had woken me, all those years ago.