and it comes back down
to the same thing
every time I remember to look,
habit heavy in my chest,
searching for the left over words
of old familiar songs
but most things feel pretty foreign,
lovers and loves and friends long gone.
I’ll circle all around you,
give you what I got, that’s fine
but I let and let it’s suffocating
when I’m quiet all the time.
These bones feel like water.
I want that stone anchored in the sea.
I want to scoop it up and touch
its skin, my own burns
too much these days.
(artwork found on Pinterest…)