Young and hungry,

The words come out the same,

Every time I come around,

Your hairs a little longer now,

But that grin still wears me down.

This thing we’ve got going,

Is nothing but a little


And shove.

The pieces of me I give,

The parts of you so willing

To take.

So when it was June,

And we played

Hard to get

And hard to love.

I imagined you’d be around

For the chill in the Fall.

And it is still you,

I see in daydreams,

Coming apart,

And bursting upon each seam.

So where did it all go,

When you pushed too hard,

And I gave too much shove?

Where is the laughter,

And the easy dialogue

That ears hear,

That skin feels,

And fingers brush.

You’ve got me asking,

Every question,

But mostly,

Where is the love?



Author: mirandatran

In constant pursuit of my best life, best self, and the very things that set my soul on fire.

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