My fingers yearn to touch another,
My lips long for foreign kisses
My skin trembles with the thought
But my heart remains in the past with the safety of you.
I know you’re not good for me,
I move on somewhat regretfully
Intentionally, forcing my mind to love another
Divulge stories of past hurt
Uplift a new man, imagine a new future with a new friend.
But a piece of my heart lies buried inside of a piece of you,
A piece of me I can never regain,
I await the day it rots in your abyss allowing me to continue amidst feelings of you.
“The past is so much safer, because whatever’s in it has already happened. It can’t be changed; so, in a way, there’s nothing to dread.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Heart Goes Last