[Untitled]

His memory lingers in my mind,
like bruises I hide
but can’t unfeel.
I touch one and the pain stings –
this is where he used to touch me,
this is where he used to kiss me.

I feel his fingers tug my hair,
his breath on my skin,
his heart pounding and beating,
nervous like mine,
his lips on my lips,
his skin on my skin.

I remember his voice,
his books,
the scent of the coffee he makes
and how our legs
tangled beneath the sheets.

Memories are photographs
scattered on the floor.
I see a smile,
I see a wink,
I see a flower,
I see an old teddy bear.

My eyes close and I feel the pain,
it’s tingling all over my body.
Love is beautiful but it hurts,
like a rose filled with thorns.

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