A Poem About Waiting for an Ex to Come Back

I do not own this image. 

How long are we going to do this?

How long are we going to sit in this empty room, 

our eyes locked 

in an invisible trance?

How long are you going to keep searching 

for what YOU lack in me, 

digging deeper into me 

when what you were looking for 

was right at the surface? 

The clock chimes, 

another hour, day, week has passed. 

Time is running out.

The walls are closing in, 

my faith is fading 

and I am slowly cutting 

myself free of your hand, 

even though I love to 

feel your fingers 

intertwined in my hair. 

My soul is aching, 

aching for something 

that makes it feel 

so pure, 

yet so sinful. 

Tick tock.

The clock chimes again, 

and suddenly, 

your name

has a little less meaning. 

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