Have you ever gone through your personal poetry archives and stumbled upon an old piece that, at the time of writing, you were convinced was absolutely awful, but now that you’ve given it some space, it turns out it wasn’t too bad after all? This piece is one of them. It’s almost a year old and no longer personally relevant, but I hope you like it.
Distance pulls heartstrings taut
While memory taunts
Sighs go unanswered
Empty promises fill
Where your touch should be.
Silence breeds disquiet:
I quietly wonder
If it’ll be worth it in the end.