You're here even when you're not.
You exist between the cracks in my bed,
and within the fibers of my pillow.
I can still feel your footsteps in the floorboards;
the smooth wood where your toes crept across,
and the indent you left with your heel.
I can still feel where your hands came to rest on me,
only moving with the rhythm of my lungs.
Your breathing was the only calm thing in the room
as I molded you into me, locking in our shape.
They put the walls up to contain me,
but you're the only person who ever could.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
You're here even when you're not.
You exist between the cracks in my bed,
and within the fibers of my pillow.
I can still feel your footsteps in the floorboards;
the smooth wood where your toes crept across,
and the indent you left with your heel.
I can still feel where your hands came to rest on me,
only moving with the rhythm of my lungs.
Your breathing was the only calm thing in the room
as I molded you into me, locking in our shape.
They put the walls up to contain me,
but you're the only person who ever could.
