I don't understand how my body can be in one place.
But pieces of me reside in you.
And somehow there's still left over bits of me left underneath his fingernails.
And when I hear your voice, all I can hear is the way you sound when you say "I love you, Sarah."
Love me. Love all of me.
Because there is not a single day where you don't cross my mind at least thirty times.
And there is not a single week, where your voice doesn't show up in my head.
I don't understand how the sky allows these thunderstorms to enter her.
Or how the shore lets the ocean continuously kiss her, even as he erodes away her edges.
And yet, I allow you to do the same.
My hands don't feel the same as yours.
They're not as rough, but I'm learning to love them all the same.