My fingers hover on the keyboard of my phone until they ache-
My nose is in need of mint tea and spring storms while my soul is in need of you,
I want them all at the same time.
My bones yearn for the kind of conversations that sit in deep within oneself-
The weight of the world is heavy and I often carry it myself, I wish I could share it with you.
Maybe we’d be able to tackle it together;
You could help me grind at the stone until it turns to gravel and falls off the edges of my soul as if it’s a cliff,
Then I wouldn’t have to carry it and-
you wouldn’t have to carry me.
But we could sit with it too;
Air thick with the kind of storm that rages in the depths of my chest,
Rain heavy but comforting in the same way it would be to curl on your lap and cry.
You’re the best blanket.
My fingers hover over the keyboard of my phone until they ache-
The deep, undeniable desire to ask you to come be sad with me lingering with them.
I exit our messages and write the poem instead.
