Salty tears streamed down my face
filling the deep sea of sadness.
,            ,        ,
        ,          ,          ,
    ,    ­       ,
           ,         ,
With my head bobbing between every crushing wave,
you taught me how to     s  w   i   m.

I want to flip through the delicate,
worn pages of your life's story.
Past the detailed table of contents,
experiencing each chapter for myself.
Every small ink splatter between the
spaces of your soul's dialogue
forms tears descending on the page.
Instead of a period signaling the end
of your life's long sentence,
you courageously turned it into a comma
so that your story would never truly end,

Trapped in an
suffocating cage
of self-doubt,

I fight back.

The ace of spades
The queen of hearts
I don't gamble, but if I did
I'd bet on you.

Home.

It's not a place made of four sturdy walls,
built from strong brick and stone.
It has no windows to peer out of,
nothing to conceal, to keep hidden.
There's no roof above to protect,
to shield, to encase.

Home.

It's when I look into your glossy eyes at 1 a.m.
before we fall deeply together into an effortless slumber.
It's where my fingertips slowly graze your shoulders
delighting at the slightest touch of your soul's vessel.
It's what keeps me safe at nightfall when I stroll down the boardwalk
in sync, in perfect rhythm with your footsteps moving beside me.
It's why I look at my bare feet and shyly smile when a subtle compliment
travels from your muffled throat to fill my ears with joy.
It's who I open my tired, restless eyes to see every bright sunrise
filling me with the courage to face another cycle of hours, minutes, seconds.

Home.

It holds the answer to every question I've yearned to uncover.
My home will always be with you.

Never once has a
dictionary defined this
infatuation,
adoration,
l  o  v   e.

Jagged,
Scuffed,
Cut...
Alone.

A part of me is missing.