Breathing

I can hear you breathe
heavily upon my skin,
with hands around these thighs
and feet unable to stand still.

I can hear you breathe
heavily upon my skin,
yet in this room I stand alone
but your hands are still at places they shouldn’t be.

I can hear you breathe
heavily upon my skin;
sometimes I forget who I am
and I forget who you have become.

I glare into the mirror,
and I can still hear you breathe
– heavily and tired.

I close my eyes,
now standing still,
and as your hands touch the ground
I think of your hopeless dreams
and living nightmares.

I wish you would stop –

breathing
.

I wish I could begin –

breathing

alone.

Jehona Thaqi©

Please share your thoughts and interpretation of this piece with me. I will be glad to share some of your thoughts. Contact: thaqi.jehona@hotmail.com

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Promises

Do we still
forgive
if we have not forgotten?

All the shattered promises
that left your lips too often,
each time the same expression;
you are sorry, you say –
and the next time you promise
it will not happen again.

The words lie upon your tongue,
ready to leave your mouth whenever required,
those empty promises
that I still try to believe in.

You touch my face,
your rough hands caressing my pale skin,
each time the same expression;
you are sorry, you say –
and it will not happen again,
but your hands keep moving upon my skin; shamelessly.

So tell me,

Do we still
forgive
if we can not forget?

Jehona Thaqi©