Happiness.
Dare I claim,
back when we were companions.
Anger.
When you left,
as I rotted in the ground.
Now I know,
my pleasures displeased you.
I should have known.
But you loved me,
didn’t you?
Do not answer.
Quality time.
I craved
for us.
Compassionate words.
Flooding
our conversations.
Acts of service.
My pride gladly
in meeting your needs.
Giving items.
Tokens of thought
I learnt.
Physical touch.
Magic
opened up my heart.
Touch:
my language distorted, abused;
turned me sad and confused.
© Joel Yap
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