I cannot find
my peace of mind,
the weight of which crushes me
and I know not where I am again.
Like being so far away from home,
the smell of clothes
takes me back to the
last time I was in them.
I trace these thoughts
as I trace the curve of your spine-
immaculate ridges like the ride of
the cobblestones on your porch.
I find my solace
in the perfect arches of your shoulders
like the hold of the hearth
that keeps me warm.
I stow my secrets
into the unbreakable weave of your ribs,
safe and sound into the vault
of your tireless heart.
And dreams I dream
to the lullaby
of your ebb and flow
heartbeat.
Trying to like what I write. I grow tired of the shape of my words and the way it flows- far off from where I wanted it to be. I am having a hard time thinking right.
Insanity, madness.
Me.