the pull from under my ribs
is wanderlust
unsuccessfully convincing myself
that the ache in my soul
is not my red string of fate--
the one wrapped around my heart--
being pulled taut
ripping my organs from my chest
and breaking my ribs like glass
it is not,
i whisper, not fooling anyone
the distance that makes it feel
like glass shards have taken over my throat
crawling from my mouth
and cutting off my tongue
it is not,
the fact that i cannot hold you
that makes my arm feel as if they have no purpose
it is not,
you being so far from my heart, my arms
that cuts up my insides so fine
please let me pretend,
just for a while longer,
that you being gone doesn't make me feel like a goner
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
the pull from under my ribs
is wanderlust
unsuccessfully convincing myself
that the ache in my soul
is not my red string of fate--
the one wrapped around my heart--
being pulled taut
ripping my organs from my chest
and breaking my ribs like glass
it is not,
i whisper, not fooling anyone
the distance that makes it feel
like glass shards have taken over my throat
crawling from my mouth
and cutting off my tongue
it is not,
the fact that i cannot hold you
that makes my arm feel as if they have no purpose
it is not,
you being so far from my heart, my arms
that cuts up my insides so fine
please let me pretend,
just for a while longer,
that you being gone doesn't make me feel like a goner
unfinished; may return to