Longing
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People say everything happens for a reason. As if reasons are enough to quiet a heart. You arrived when I was still learning that survival and living are not the same thing. I was seventeen. Sleep felt dangerous. The walls around me heard too much. The nights lasted forever. Then there was your voice, traveling…
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There is something dangerousabout the way you look at me. Not because I’m afraid, but because you make me forgetall the reasonsI built walls around my heart. You don’t ask permissionto live in my thoughts. You simply do. Between songs. Between pages. Between every breathI swear I’ll stop thinking about you. But then I remember…
Between Bruises and Blooms 