You used to make me feel
that I am beautiful
These days I find myself hanging on
through wires and thorns
left raw and drying up
only thriving on the memories of days
when you used to call me your own
Your hand used to warm my skin
and so does your whispers
Now your blank stares
can send in the winter in May
I long to go back to those days
like how the waves hasten to the shore
Will you ever come back to me as you were before?
4:31 PM 11/24/2010
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