September 5th, 2021
Most nights, I pray for a pair of arms to just wrap me and hold me for hours. Nothing more, just that. Remind me that the bones I carry aren't as brittle as I make them out to be. But it's yours that beg for me. It's your head on my chest, and it's your chest rising and falling with serenity. You are at peace while my heart races. I want what you have, even though you are mine. What a strange predicament I've buried myself in. But don't get it twisted, you are the love of my life. If it's a pair of arms to hold you for hours that you want, then by god, you will have it.
R.K.
YOU ARE READING
Holeheart
PoetryI am the forgiver. I am the destroyer. I'm not at fault, but I deserve to be. Poetry and Prose Volume V 2021 DISCONTINUED
