attached
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I’ve tied my body to someone else’s for so long
Sewn my hands to another’s back
But now, I look down at the scars
From ropes and staples and thread
I should have known better than to stare into your eyes for too long
Or to read into your touch
Now I sit here, pulling at strings
But there is nothing to grab
I thought, for a moment, that I might have you
My fist was closed.
My breathing, hard.
The frown line was there,
sitting on my forehead,
as I failed miserably,
trying to hold onto something,
that was just like thin air.
