I’m but a storm away from ruin, yet relentlessly you pursue the core of me, determined to crack my resolve and create small damp pools of triumph where warm refuge once had a home…
a house is not a home without love they say, but love can drown even the best swimmer
and my head, tilted up, chin fighting to keep air into these lungs, grows weary quickly
I’m dying for the very love I had hoped would keep me afloat