About my heart...

Golden Summers seem faint,
lost in the creases of bed sheets,
a lifetime of innocent laughs, sweet scented breezes,
all gone within a whisper

Mindless days and nights filled with childish repetition
melt on your rabid tongue as if you were fire and I, ice;
fragile crystals that cling to every cold, dead thing,
slowly taking claim to the palest hopes that crack under pressure

And yet I hold my own against this burning thirst
that’s thrust down my throat and into the pit of my stomach,
against convulsive fits dangling from the tips of your fingers,
scratching apart my meager attempts for words

I stand my ground at the thoughts you send when I’m alone
but lurch over, agonizing in the lack of effort to conceal myself,
from you, your educated lips and dancing, taunting tongue,
or those words that send my mind to places I’ll regret

So I bend, reshape, rethink a future
that I pray is not mere fancy,
where my words, like honey, will draw in bees
and sting until they’re matched in conscience, by you

But I tighten the silence at the sweat on our skin
and wait the air to cool our minds, to send reassurance
that the night will not leave us lonely here,
that even my palest hopes could shine like stars in the darkness