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Schist

Sometimes I wish
My heart were made of stone
So that I wouldn't have to feel
The things I feel

A constant shift from up to down
From hot to cold
From day to night

And my arms ache to hold you
My lungs want to breathe the same air
I see you when I close my eyes
You are always with me
Always near

For how far could you be from me
When you exist within my heart?

Sometimes I wish
My heart were made of stone
So I wouldn't have to feel
That you're not there

Comments

lillysmum said…
Someday, you're really going to need to publish a book of poetry.
August 27, 2015 at 11:44 AM
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