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Old Surfaces

1 min read

There's a storm inside of me

and I can't find shelter

beneath brittle bones.

I've been longing for a safehouse

and a bed that can hold.

Don't let these sheets pull me in.

Every inch of

my anatomy

creaks

with What Was and What Could Be

Help me build this body into a home.

I know my old soul is an ancient ruin,

but if you'd pace my cracked-sidewalk-veins long enough,

you would learn that there is beauty in history

that can be found

in every crevice

and corner.

Free my chest cavity of the echoing dull thuds 

and play me your favorite bird song.

I want to fly to far off places with you.