Time To Prune

How I would speak!
If I could speak
my heart open, free!
There is nothing I want -
but to feel your skin.
To see your eyes.
To have you next to me.

I must pull back.
Nip this in the overgrown limb.
For it, has begun to whither -
slowly, painfully, forced.
Through no want of my
own I stand alone,
and it is lonely.


~Sabrina