Slow Little Deaths

A while ago but not so far back
You used to write of your love for me
I go back and read those sweet lyrics
And wonder what became of that love
Did it fade?
It’s been a long time (for me)
Since you’ve written out those feelings
Now you text me a little but rarely
Sometimes not at all
I wake and reach for you
But you’re not there
Maybe sitting on the edge of the bed
On your phone with somebody else
You reached for me not once last night
Does my skin no longer ignite your passion?
Am I too readily available?
Where did I go wrong?
I must have because your voice and your eyes
They say different things
How many times I had been awakened
By your hands and your lips and your body
Pressed into mine
Wanting, receiving
I’m always ready, hungry for you
And now
Now nothing
Now you choose sleep over flesh
Now you choose your phone over me
Now you’ve become gentle rather than insistent
What has tempered your love?
Am I not enough?
What can I do
To turn your eyes and your heart
Back to me?
Will you tell me?
I need you
I want you
You bring so much to my withered heart
I’m longing for those touches again
And each day that passes
A little piece of me dies a little more

32 Comments on “Slow Little Deaths

  1. Those empty spoken words… Past relationships, I look back and it angers me the words and emotions wasted on someone who didn’t care at all. It’s hard to write it out… Painful words with a lot of emotion hun!

    Liked by 1 person

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Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

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