You are in the deepest pit
of my being like the roots of grass that
hold us all while begging
to be stepped on.
Why must I fill in the blanks
between our hearts beating,
a confession, and
the dead of night?
A flutter of butterflies,
squirming and bursting throughout
the pillars within me.
The shackles of my being.
My bones — yearning for you to enter in
to the furthest corners of my mind.
The places where I am most alone.
I wait for you to tell me that
you want to stay.
You wait for me to show you that
I care. Well, you’ve seen me.