wounds

Being with you was like walking on shards of glass.

When I fell for you they dug into my shoulders, into my hands and back, but I was still numb from your kiss.

Your touch was pain medication, your love a drug,

But the ache of the razors under my skin still shot through my nerves.

Pulling away from you was like ripping a page out of an old notebook,

The frayed edges still remained and the gap in the writing could never be perfectly fixed.

It has been years since we last spoke, but I still remember how your voice rivaled a songbird,

How your arms wrapped around me until I felt better.

Your touch was pain medication, your love a drug,

And without you, the pain hasn't gone.