you are not mine

you are not mine.
you are many things
but not mine.
you are tying up loose strings, the phone--it rings,
but me, i wait. i think i enjoy the sting.
and i breathe, in and out,
trying not to scream and shout
for your attention, which i think i need, but that must only be
my heart, again, playing tricks on me.
and you are talking on and on, the list, it’s endless obligations
but while i wait i have the realization
that maybe i do not fit into the equation
of your plans so nice and neatly as we both originally thought.
and i know now, you are not mine.

heartsong

if i could crawl inside your chest, wrap myself up in the blankets of your soul, warm and soft and tranquil, i would rest my heart there forever.

i would lay my head on your heart, listen to the slow, deep steady, thud thud thudding, and find peace in that rhythm, healing in that pulse.

i would sleep there, hypnotized by the rise and fall of your breathing, comforted by the lullaby of your blood rushing past me, around me, over me, like a salve to my open wounds.

and i would close my eyes and dream big, grand, unabashed dreams of happiness and splendor, and soft, quiet dreams of open fields and big blue skies and shade trees in the park, and when the nightmares came i would not be afraid.

i would breath big deep breaths, drowning in the warm river of your soul, becoming one with you.
if i could crawl inside your chest, i would.