i wasn't tired until you
fell into my arms

and i wasn't tired until
i threw a thousand
weightless snowdrops
to the ground

and i didn't hurt until
the first word
and now
my home is a loud
roar of reverberations
that pass through me

(like a million spoken knives)

and i didn't understand
pain. Until your somebody
stumbled into me

and i couldn't let go
(because they were made of ash)

and i felt the weight
of so many somebodies
(suddenly)

and i began
to think

that - my existence
(the sea
the sky
and the nothing between)
manifested to
pulverize
the
planet
with
each
further
strained
breath
until
it
can
feel
each
pinprick
loss
of
life
it
enforces.

And maybe my rage
forged bellowing
stormclouds over deserts
or made rivers flow backwards
from storm surge (tear driven)
but the somebody i'm not

and the somebodies i carry

will never
be more threatening
than a fadeaway
wind that cries with the lone
wolf.