d y s p h o r i a

saturday //

you’ll never get to touch me

to feel how soft my skin is

after a long warm shower

when the world has gone to sleep

you’ll never get to see me

in the morning when you’ve woken up

and my hair is scattered

all over a pillow, closed eyes

closeup

you won’t feel my hands

trying to find yours

when we walk amongst the city

feeling our supposed love soar

you won’t get to experience

having me so close

while we lay in the park

soaking up the summer sun

you won’t get to hear

all the words and songs I wrote

to whisper in your ear

when we’re left all alone

the taste of honey on my lips

which you claimed were so darn sweet

you won’t get to ellipse

with your own

which proved to be a deceit

the smell

of my cherry blossom perfume

or the sight

of me in that red dress

which although you found revealing

you yearned to rip off me

at the end of the night

you won’t get to taste, see, or feel

because you’ve proven so unworthy

to have your senses awakened