Oh, if only I were not to ache
with the thought of the possible, could-be “you”
then maybe I might be able to move on

Oh if only I were not to ache
with the probable, possible tenderness
that you might share with me

Oh if only I were not to ache
with the withheld touch of your hand
or the crush of my skin against yours

Oh if only I were not to ache
when words spoken or read, promise
that what I feel is in fact truth

Oh if only I were not to ache
when you speak, unknowingly, to me
and my heart starts and stops

Oh if only I were not to ache
when I decide enough is enough
and I walk away from you

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017