An aching, searing, tearing love-
Remnants of past held on by tethers of a present which yearns and begs for a future.
At the end of my tethers- screaming, pounding upon my chest declaring my love and my pride- “I love you and I’m afraid of it”.
Restraints, hopes; how love and fear seem to be aware of one another. Take my hand or give me longer rope to hang myself with.
Torture me- your love hanging inches from my reach. Shall I bide my time and pray my ropes will break and you’ll hold me again.
In dreams and in thoughts where I kill my heart for remembering it’s hopeful ties to you-