Lover

Happiness is elusive.

Sometimes it hides in the hands

of a boy, 

his fingertips across my back.

And I need his hands

like concrete blocks,

to build up my spine.

And I need his mouth

to speak the words

that get stuck inside my chest.

There is stormy weather

in my gut and

I need the shelter of his rib cage

when my own bones

aren't strong enough.

I need his cheek 

against mine,

our breath like en electric current.

I found out what 'need'

means and it is the

weight of wanting forever

with another person. 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741