Day 41/366

The one that gives you butterflies,
And heaviness of breath,
The one you can't let go of,
Still strung to you by a weak thread.

The comfort from their warmth,
The poetry in their words,
You can't but compare,
To others to match that worth.

The way he held you seemed right,
Or how he held your hand firm,
Though time may have gone by,
The desires still burn.

You will always be a fond memory,
Though to my past I cannot hold,
I never realized it would hurt so much,
Since our story remains untold.