You whisper your prayers into my skin like I’m the god you stopped believing in. I can only hold you tightly and hope that whatever you want is meant to be.
You have your beliefs, and I have mine, but I’m not so stubborn as to think I have to be right. Or you have to be wrong.
Love drips from every word I speak in your direction but I find my lips numb far too often. My tongue twists in knots and I overfill in the form of tears. Frustration sets in and I hope you know I’m not mad at you.
The heart in my chest rages on like the seas and the storm in my blood never settles. My glass skin feels much too like ice and I’m sorry I always come off so cold. I haven’t found a fire warm enough to melt me. I don’t know how to shed this armor.
I feel you growing restless and I feel you toss and turn at night. My arm only reaches out when you’ve left the bed and I’m sorry I’m afraid of the pulse in my veins.
I’ve got apologies falling from my head and filling up the empty spaces around me, but I don’t know how to explain them to you. I both need to, and can’t, let you know how I feel. But I can’t seem to let go of this fear.
My mind conjures up monsters that hide in the shadows and sometimes they look like you. It’s not you that makes me flinch, it’s the shadow that feigns you instead. I just have yet to spot the differences.