Your Back
You own me,
Like I own my keys.
I open doors for you,
Walk over the threshold,
And throw me away,
Looking away.
I fall. At deaths door all the way.
Then I land. I miss your touch.
Your love of me when you need me.
And I smile, a silver smile,
And long to be in your hand again.
Copyright © Chris Grundy | Year Posted 2012
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