y(our)s

i am
delicate
barbed wire
twisted around
lungs
a drop of crimson
on virgin white

my heart is
sculpted
from plastic explosives
my lips
ignite the fuse
but the countdown
begins in earnest
when i feel
your breath
on my thigh

i am broken
bent
out of shape
from all the
sexual positions
practiced

and called
making love

i am the
grand sum
of scars
deep beneath
the surface

and

of your breath
on my earlobe
as i growl into
your neck
of your head
on my chest
my fingers
absently
stroking your back
of my lips
on your fingers

i am sad
sometimes
a deep heartsorrow
seems engraved
on my bones

i am not
a rescue
nor am i
a project

i am
a life changing
event

but i require
patience

because
i am not
always
okay

i can be
too much
or
not enough
in equal terms

i love
like an eight year old
with every cell
of my being
i need
like a teenager
with every
halted breath

but truly buried
in this accumulation
of pain
and sighs

i am

yours

this battered
heart

is

ours

and that feels right

4 thoughts on “y(our)s

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s