As I was laying in bed, thinking about you.
Your touch, your hands on my thighs.
Your smell, your cologne I miss everyday.
Your lips, against mine.
I though by myself I should’ve moved on by now.
Yet it’s 11:28 AM and I’m laying here.
Thinking about you.
Hoping you walk trough the door someday to tell me you miss me and hug me.
Although deep down I know it will never happen.
I can still hope, babe.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
In The Blink of Her Eye
Time itself bent and morphed, allowing Shannon the precious seconds needed to see and adjust to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Each frame showed minute details she would have missed had the clock not slowed down until she heard every click of the hands as they swept toward the end of everything. If only she was being melodramatic...
By Lisa VanGalen7 days ago in Fiction
Doing it for the troops
The others dropped like flies around me. We fought and struggled to get to this point. I'm the only one left now. The objective is right there. A mere two hundred feet away. The last of my team got a bullet to the head right next to me, but I couldn't do anything. I was able to locate and neutralise the sniper as he shot my friend, so his death was at least not in vain.
By Mohammed Darasi4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.