Rushed

Softness in touch
Lovely but rushed
Tenderness a bit too much
A heart a bit too crushed

Sickly feeling in my gut
Prickly feeling; like a cut
Why do I send myself through the sorrows?
To wake up and find it still there tomorrow

Heartache is heartache
The pain doesn't heal
The thoughts shudder through my body like an earthquake
The words stick in my mouth like my last meal.

"I miss you"
Words too sweet to say
"I love you"
Words with little meaning left anyway.