HiatusA Poem by Rachel DeHart
this is me on my hiatus from dating.
6 month minimum of me without anyone but me. And this, this is the loneliness setting in when I see you walk into work and remember how much I miss the feeling of a hug. a kiss. how much I miss the feeling of skin on skin. Not only am I missing the contact, I am starving for the trust that I used to be able to throw around. Yet, I can see my reliance on the human race laying lifeless on the floor. Crushed by too many lies and so much built up hope that never was answered. And. I will stand this alone. Yet. Seeing you walk into the store, your sleeve showing just a bit, the way talking to you always put me at ease. What the hell is this? I thought, I could have SWORN that I was over all of this needy depending wanting Loving s**t. And even though I thought that, here I am anyway, fighting the urge to call you, message you, anything... just to confess. Tell you that, yes, I am the girl that will love your tattoos just as much as you do. That I am the girl who will drive around with you in your Jeep and forget the rest of the world. But what the HELL am I doing here? Sitting here, realizing that just earlier tonight, I could barely stand to have someone touch my back, and I am begging to be loved again? I am broken, abused, the type of girl that youd never bring home to you mother. Never tell your family that Hey, I love her That just isnt the style of woman I am. Not the variety of person that your mother is going to be ecstatic about. Cant you see the scars that cover all of my arm? Cause I can. And Im not the type to hide who I am. Because the crazy thoughts in my head, they still spill out. But, sitting here by my computer Id like to think, that maybe, someday. You would be able to SEE me. Be able to look at me, and realize that there is a special beat in my heart that is just for you, only for you. © 2008 Rachel DeHartFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on August 21, 2008 Last Updated on August 21, 2008 AuthorRachel DeHartFalls Church, VAAboutEvery day I wake up now is a gift, because I tried to stop the sun from rising. I find talking to be the hardest thing ever, but I am trying to find the words. My hair is a constantly changing cre.. more..Writing
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