Warm Blood


I keep replaying memories of us in my mind

But I have to remind myself that these aren’t memories

Just a reminder of all I will never have

Or experience


They say you need to imagine it in order for it to become a reality

I have spent a lifetime in my imagination

Only to find that reality will burst your bubble the first chance it gets

Leaving you a shell of unreachable dimensions


I can spend hours imagining what it would be like to be loved

The true kind – sans the degrading remarks and set time you’re supposed to give that important piece up to him

As if he automatically deserves it

After he repeatedly tells you through actions that you’re not enough for him


I can sift through the comforting thoughts of having a good one by my side

His hands in my hair

Demonstrating what it’s really like to be kissed

To actually have the honor of being who I am and having that be the prize; something he wants


And yet I’m always left wondering if someone touched me if my heart would steady

That this dull ache would evaporate, the emptiness dissipate

And shock this anxious heart back into rhythm

While untying the knots in my stomach


If someone worthy touched me

Warm blood and all

Would I break

Or melt?


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