He has a smile playing around his lips, a warmth in his eyes
One I could only see when he lets out a content sigh
He’s so far away now, not even within my vicinity
And yet I can feel his presence as if it were actuality

My fingers crave the strands of his hair between its tips
My chest heaves for his weight as he leans into it
My ears are lonely from the lack of his gentle whispers
I know not how much longer my feelings would linger

I wish I could cling to every fibre of his being, never let go
I wish I could wrap his entire essence and pocket it as I go
Wouldn’t that be abduction? The same as Thumbelina, Voldemort even
It’s ruining me little by little, as I thrash and tire to enliven

On earth, tradgedy is often confused with romance
The soft brush of lips is known to lull one into its trance
Isn’t that why Romeo & Juliet plummeted to their ends
Why everyone is so lost and broken – trying to make amends

He was never mine and never will be, even as he fabricated the stories
I could move mountains and bring the moon but she was witty
A lifetime ago I asked him if he could let me down slowly
Only now I realise, how could he, when he never even held me