White Chocolate Toblerone

Zaira Christa Barakat
May 1
1 min read

I wish I didn’t feel this way.

My hands reach out to nothing.

My desperate cries hang in the summer heat.

I can’t say there’s something

Missing from within me.

But I’m longing for a home I’ve never been to,

Arms I’ve never held,

A soul I’ve never touched.

And no matter what I do

To kill this feeling—

No matter how much food I cook,

Books I read,

Time I spend locked in my room—

No one will answer my call

Because I’m too afraid

To make it in the first place.

I wish there wasn’t so much guilt

Hidden in the fine print of desire.

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