Sleep | poetry

You fall asleep,

My hand to your cheek

At first it seems sweet

Then I think of blander motives

Am I interrupting your rest?

Is this just a unwillingness to move?

Then you pull my hand to your chest

Bringing it to rest, part of me on you

Where I should always have been,

And I remember what love feels like again.

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Deadlines | Poetry

Looming, you wait

around the corner,

crossing the dates

from the calendar;

taking the time

from our grasp

until the scope

zooms in fast,

and all too soon

it’s deadline day.

Blurring | Poetry

When the days blurrrrrrr

into one.

And everything fades

to obscurity,

the world makes the

most sense

in the dark.

 

@melissaholden94 

 

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