Close was never
close enough.
Even if
I could hear you in my head,
visit you in my dreams,
feel you buried deep inside
me.
It was never enough.
Maybe if I could have
peeled back the fragile
layers
of your skin, cracked open
your ribs and found some
comfortable
place between your lungs
and spleen to burrow into,
I would've
been satisfied.
No, really.
Poems that Suck 