Stay,
Stay with me in these photographs,
Don't leave me here with nervous hands
And eyes heavy with tears.
Don't make me paint you into reality as if
You were imaginary because you were the
Most honest being I've ever known.
Just don't leave.
There are fires on my fingertips and I'm
Afraid that they are going to burn the escape
Plans hidden within the creases of my palms.
I need you, I built my home out of you; you are
My nest when flying becomes too difficult and I
Feel as if the wind is going to plummet me onto
The ground and leave me battered and bruised.
Trees are built to endure the toughest of weather
Conditions, but when you carve
Within their trunk you leave them prone to illness;
And I may have been bred to be tough, but with you
Gone there's a hole gaping in my chest and I just want
To spread my wings to fly and be alive,
Yet some days the act of breathing seems impossible
And it feels as though I'm drowning but every time I
Check for seaweed in my hair I find that I was always
On land, and these photographs I have of you are
Going to remind me that I've lost you and no
Matter how many photographs I have they will
Never bring you back.
