my hands

“Table for Two”

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Words are at the end of my tongue, my lips are so close to yours, and I keep on wondering how perfectly my hands would fit with yours. But oh, I’m back here. Staring and hoping for you. Just screaming on the inside, how much I love you.


[ and this is for you ]

If I told you that this is the last poem I’d write for you, would that be a lie? Because it is not my fault that my hands write these down and my heart spills them out. Because it is not my fault that I can’t stop thinking about you. Because it is not fault that I write for the things and I love and it was never my fault that I, have fallen in love with you.
—  P.G.G