Broken Down Apple
The apple of my eye is out of reach,
but the scent of his hair still lingers,
managing only sporadic gasps,
curly and thick,
running my fingers through and through,
just like it was yesterday.
Some nights wake me,
dead in my sleep.
Seeing you with her,
is hurtful,
yet I feel hopeless,
hopelessly in love.
The apple of my eye is out of reach,
yet a hug is okay,
close distance
doesn't process right in my head.
What if all I want,
is just one small kiss,
and your love.
Reality says
that's a tall order,
difficult to fill.
Hope she's good to you,
hope you emit happiness
like there's no tomorrow.
A whole could not seem so realistic,
when the apple of my eye is out of reach.
Copyright © Alice Nightingale | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment