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I cannot love him
January 30, 2014
His lips were like ghosts
haunting every inch of my skin
Always hovering but never to touch
Cold, stale breath fanning over
my face
Lanky fingers raise the hair
upon my arm, tracing; grazing
the translucent scars that litter my body.
Soft buzzing flows from your
mouth, hums slipping from
the source of my destruction
like an electric fence that I
dare not cross.
Do not fall in love with someone
who is dead inside.
© Morgan H.,Marblehead, MA
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