Eyes to your heart, mirrors to your soul
A deathly pain creeps you, eats you up whole.
Tears floats in your iris, red glistens in your whites,
Your lips upturned, crooked and dripping down in parts.
Bed-hair, ruffled, twisted and torn,
Your skin, ashen, washed in blood swept sworn.
My reach -never touching, always left behind,
I wish you'd just let me, let me hold your hand.
~ Copyright Β© Ozlem Yikici 27.02.2013
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