I’m the junkie twitching for his next fix I’m the drunkard looking for his next drink I’m the infant crying for his mother’s breast The need in me to give life to my thoughts is undeniable My fingers are drawn to the keyboard searching for that release I long to watch the letters flow across the screen as I chase the cursor The cursor is mocking me today My thoughts will not emerge upon the page Today the thirst remains (C) 2019 Penny Wilson *The original version of this was written several years ago. I liked it then, but decided it needed a fresh tweak. I hope you enjoyed. Penny
You were a good teacher.
You taught my skin to delight in your caress.
My fingers learned to search for yours.
I learned to listen for your whispers.
My sighs learned your name.
My desire learned to match your heat.
My pulse learned to quicken with your embrace.
You taught me to thirst for your touch.
I learned the loneliness of empty nights.
You taught my tears to fall in your absence.
You taught me how to say goodbye.
I learned of a broken heart.
© 2018 Penny Wilson
The moon won’t tell.
It does not hear my pleas.
You’re not to be found.
I’m down on my knees.
I’ve risked and plotted
For eyes that look like yours.