I'll toll the bells in your return-
you've come back empty handed,
without any stories
to tell me.
I'll lie awake tonight again,
and you'll have nothing to tell me.
No happily-ever-after, no stories of heroes and queens.
I'll wait and want to be tangled in narration,
and dialogue and maybe finally
slumber might find me
and take me in.
And you'll tell me that you're sorry,
that you owe me histories and narratives,
that my eyes won't rest
and it's all you're fault.
But oh my dear,
all I wanted was for you to know
your homecoming
was my most favourite story
yet.
Struggling