Your torso I use for comfort, warming me in the cold of oblivion.
The movement of your chest steadily rising and falling mimicking calm waves on the sea rocking me into torpor as the night persisted.
The lub-dub of your heart acting as a lullaby sending me off, unarmed but protected into the cold of oblivion.
All these memories seem so artificial as I look down at your body,
You're as still.
As silent.
As cold as ice.
Your eyes staring straight back at me more fragile than I. Not wanting to shatter you into a million pieces, I avert my eyes. Keeping them closed I lifted your head and laid it on my frame.
I had to do something.
You were out there all alone.
Unarmed in the cold of oblivion.
I needed to protect you.
YOU ARE READING
Crooked Thoughts
PoetryAll the thigs I could never explain trying to be explained. Just putting feelings into words I guess. I guess it's slightly triggering but what Isint these days.
