My heart. My throat. My stomach.
Everything in between and against them
Feels as though they might burst
The once feeling of butterflies
Now is turned to horses lodged
Not from you, my love.
You are my home.
For when my horses need to be held
You'd hold the stable doors wide open
And corral my heart back to safety.
Dynamite is stuck in my esophagus
The fuse lit and sizzling.
My horses are not only out of my stable
But they are far away from home;
Three hours away.
My home isnt a structure,
Or any silly saying.
Home is where the heart is?
No.
Home is you and you alone.
No bomb threat could change that,
Or broken down horse stable.
