What Made It Real

I miss the soft rain

of your voice

how it would fall like

soothing balm on my

rage, dampening it

to low embers

The laughs over cigarettes

quiet snickers

Belly laughs until our ribs hurt


Silent conversations

Grasping at words to

Say anything,

Struggling and letting it die


The small, quiet talks

Hearts weeping from our eyes

when it got too big

I wanted to have it all

Not just some, some of the time

Devotion to a dream



A lovely dream

I have dreams of my own

and sometimes

Love just isn’t enough



All Rights Reserved


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