It might be odd that I see myself as a vase –
an ornament –
waiting to be filled…
with nights of immense passion and pleasure,
days of adventure and discovery,
and feelings that wake me up in the middle of the night
with remnants of your touch on my skin
and ashes from the fire ignited by your lips
as they made love to mine
Fill me
What is left of me is this fragmented figure
on the verge of explosion –
into nothingness to match my soul.
Empty:
the sweet-nothings that you whisper into my ear
startle you when they echo back
Your tears, in response, are like clay between the cracks,
a balm for those on my heart
Fill me
You hear my cries for help when I wake up
screaming from a nightmare.
I am wrapped in your arms and
your steady heartbeat is a tranquilizer,
an anesthetic.
Your caresses are gentle
as you sing me a lullaby.
I allow myself to enter my nightmares
without fear because I will wake up in your
armoured embrace.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
It might be odd that I see myself as a vase –
an ornament –
waiting to be filled…
with nights of immense passion and pleasure,
days of adventure and discovery,
and feelings that wake me up in the middle of the night
with remnants of your touch on my skin
and ashes from the fire ignited by your lips
as they made love to mine
Fill me
What is left of me is this fragmented figure
on the verge of explosion –
into nothingness to match my soul.
Empty:
the sweet-nothings that you whisper into my ear
startle you when they echo back
Your tears, in response, are like clay between the cracks,
a balm for those on my heart
Fill me
You hear my cries for help when I wake up
screaming from a nightmare.
I am wrapped in your arms and
your steady heartbeat is a tranquilizer,
an anesthetic.
Your caresses are gentle
as you sing me a lullaby.
I allow myself to enter my nightmares
without fear because I will wake up in your
armoured embrace.