To make sense


I wish you would hold me like you held him

Close and tinder

Letting your passion run wild

Taking me to that level of excitement and pleasure

That level you were willing to show him

I draw my coat closed pulling close

Walking on rain soaked streets



Why am I so different?

Why am I not worthy?

Back home in front of a warm fire

Glass of gin in hand


Sitting past midnight


The air is dry with my dissipating thoughts

and I’ve given up on trying to make sense…

Twitter and Instagram: @tanisjustice