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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Poem Collection - MythOfHappiness - 14. Too Old

Too old for me,

You say

As I smile and give you the look

Too old

You think as I taste your lips

 

Too distant

I say, pulling back

Too far away

The gap I’ve made

Stretches for miles

 

I’m over here,

And you’re there

With the rest of them

And I don’t know how to build

A bridge across

 

You think it’s you

I know it’s not

Too old you say,

As I kiss your neck

From the wrong side of the bottomless pit

 

I taste your skin,

The salt and sweet of it

Burning my tongue

And I think about something,

Anything else

 

I bend down, undoing your belt

You growl, your hesitance

Melting away with each wild second

And I watch it all from the other side

Knowing what I’m doing, but not knowing how to stop

 

I know I’ll hurt you.

I can see it.

I know you’ll try and hurt me

I know you’ll fail

And I know that’ll hurt the worst

 

I know all this

And I fucking hate it.

Why can’t I be someone else?

Why can’t love be more than a word

Used to sell songs?

 

You gasp. I feel it in my chest.

Your eyes. I can’t look away from your eyes.

We’re so close, physically.

But I stay back.

I can’t be hurt, and that’s the fucking worst.

 

You collapse on me,

With an intake of breath,

Sucking it straight out of my lungs.

And you moan, low and long.

I let go and you fall back.

 

My dispassion disgusts me.

But it does not surprise me.

What surprises me,

Is the wanting to feel

The wanting and the ache.

 

You lay there, exhausted

And I roll onto you,

My head on your stomach.

I want to feel

For the first time in my life

 

I want to connect.

I just… can’t.

I don’t know how anymore.

I’ve turned it off for so long

That I’ve forgotten

 

“Still too old?”

I ask, and it’s so empty

You smile at me

“Yes. I am”

And I smile back across the gap.

Copyright © 2018 MythOfHappiness; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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This poem speaks to me. It reminds me of being the young one and desperately wanting a guy - a sexy guy I wanted to date - to take me seriously; to see my mind and not the 'kid' I happened to look like at the time. I'm not sure I ever managed that, but we had equal exchanges anyway. 

I think I will have to come back and leave you a better review tomorrow. But I do love this poem. 

 

 

Edited by AC Benus

In the poem, the poet says they wish to feel. I suppose my statement to them would be 'wanting is 9/10ths of the battle.' The mere fact that they care enough to want a deeper connection means they will get there, and probably sooner than one knows.

Another remarkable one of your storytelling poems. I'm happy you share your stuff with us. Please keep it up

Edited by AC Benus
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