Poem #173

I can feel you running your fingers
up and down my neck even when you’re not here.
I feel like I’m burning when I remember
our first hug.
All of those small things make me a person
I tried to bury the last time I got hurt.
You make me vulnerable and for the first
time I am not trying to hide it.

2 thoughts on “Poem #173

  1. anjum wasim dar March 25, 2019 — 5:52 pm

    So true and natural

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