Untitled by cosmic_parachute

the light comes slanting through the window. a sea of things left unsaid and feelings only hinted at floats in the room where he slept. 

i miss his smell. 

his arms. 

one intense hug. 

this story is a poetry of hopes and desires, broken pieces of age-old wishes, loneliness and the black cloud of distance.

what does he feel? doubt is the one which stings. 

i hold his pillow and inhale the memory of him. i can almost trace the shape of his body in the nothingness of my room.