For the love of finding forgotten things

I was puttering around old files on my computer today and found this poem I had written ages ago. Doesn't you own writing look better to you when you've forgotten about it? It does for me. I love reading over old stuff I've written, especially if I stumble across something I wrote down and then, presently, forgot about.

Enjoy:

Stolen moments.

Stolen kisses

Now like raindrops dripping off the window of my life.

Leaving behind streaks barely enough to remind me

Barely enough to taste the kisses

Left over from foggy nights

Bittersweet.

How can it be, but bittersweet?

It will never be able to be full,

Complete.

Never can I be perfectly happy with those stolen moments

The perfection of his arms around me,

His fingers on my skin.

Never will they be enough to overcome the feeling of injustice

Never will they set the confusion straight.