I am drawing patterns along your palms
With the tips of my fingers,
And your voice is piercingly cold
As it shimmers across my skin.
You say I am not enough-
And then you soak in me,
A cat in a patch of sunlight.
One moment purring in baritone
The next, hissing in falsetto.
You say you may want another-
But you shiver in the silence
Of my absence, i know
What it is that you want.
You want the world spinning-
You want the possibility of pain-
You want to stand on that window ledge
Again and again.
But I am not chaos and strife.
I am their daughter,
And I have built a home
In the eye of a tornado.
I do not tear houses from the ground,
I do not uproot forestry-
I am the rope that holds down the fort.
I am a good man in a storm.
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 2:07 PM UTC
I am drawing patterns along your palms
With the tips of my fingers,
And your voice is piercingly cold
As it shimmers across my skin.
You say I am not enough-
And then you soak in me,
A cat in a patch of sunlight.
One moment purring in baritone
The next, hissing in falsetto.
You say you may want another-
But you shiver in the silence
Of my absence, i know
What it is that you want.
You want the world spinning-
You want the possibility of pain-
You want to stand on that window ledge
Again and again.
But I am not chaos and strife.
I am their daughter,
And I have built a home
In the eye of a tornado.
I do not tear houses from the ground,
I do not uproot forestry-
I am the rope that holds down the fort.
I am a good man in a storm.
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