I breathe your loving words in deeply
Fill my lungs with your sweetness
And exhale those petty insecurities
That once stained them black.

Your gentle smiles tickle my skin
Your laughter tousles my hair,
Dead leaves swirl upon cold concrete
In the wake of your joy.

But your fury.

It is screaming against my window
Rattling the glass like old bones
It is scraping my skin raw
I cannot speak with such chapped lips.

And the silence after,
My hollow chest still echos your gusts
Your cold front has torn the warmth
From my very bones.

Perhaps,
Next time the wind howls
And the trees shudder
I will just stay inside.