I caress, tracing for a bump
Searching for what was mine
But when pages are ripped out
We never will know, the full story .
The feeling of a kick, gifted purpose
In a slow revolve, my senses are one.
What can’t be relived, is precious
Because when pages are ripped out,
It may well be half the story.
A pain that numbs, births reclusion ,
Silence creates internal discord
Emptiness cradles me, I miss my angel
The pages ripped out, leave a heart chipped.
Everyday is a lullaby, played on broken strings.
A finger’s firm grip will never be known
The sound of a heartbeat will be a song unheard
The bulge will soon disappear
I can count my breaths,since you slipped away
And these pages ripped out, are a hurtful reminder.