Spilled Tea

Gold pt. 1

To the dearest to my heart,
the anchor to the pieces of my soul:

Where are your
countless dreams created,
the nights spent without me?

I, too, believe in
the strings attached
to the hearts of soulmates.

Do you have the nameless,
faceless dreams of me
that I do, of you?

I hope I will be everything
your mind has painted me to be.

Where am I with you,
in all of your hopes?

I have created
a sea of dreams with you,
ideas to lay at your feet.

I write to you while
all of me is charred,
all of me besides
the pieces and hopes of us.

The flowing of you
is a salve as I am healing,
as I hope I am to you.

I hope to always be your salve
as you will be mine,
whilst we fix ourselves together
when life has it's turmoils.

When the good that is left
are the dreams we've created
and this exists enough
to warm our bones
in the chill of the darkest night.

I lay by myself in the
constant changing tide
of what is now.

In these strings
I feel you
and hushed I sleep
in less alone thoughts.

Quiet I rest with dreams,
the only pieces of you
life has given permission
to my arms to embrace,
as of the while until
you grace this
presence of mine.

Silently I wait,
my greatest
oceans of patience
utterly given,
solely for you.