The Closest I'll Ever Get

I miss the way our bodies spoke,

no words needed, no armor cloaked.

The language we wove, soft and raw,

a rhythm only we ever saw.

I fear the silence that now remains,

the ghost of touch etched in my veins.

How can I unlearn the map of your skin,

when every corner still draws me in?

With you, I was a version of free,

no masks, no shame, just simply me.

Now I dread the thought of trying anew,

of baring it all to someone not you.

I hate you for the depth we shared,

for the way you stripped me, left me bared.

And yet, I love you for just the same,

for lighting a fire I cannot tame.

Will I ever feel that tender grace,

the safety I found in your embrace?

Or is this yearning, sharp and wild,

destined to haunt me, undefiled?

So here I am, a heart torn in two,

hating and loving the ghost of you.

Wishing for a time when I might forget,

but fearing you're the closest I'll ever get.

~RMC