I know you’ve got your ghosts
And I’ve got some too,
They haunt the halls of your eyes,
And a faltered smile in the midst of daydreams.
I catch it in the ‘once’ and in between the ‘used to’.
Because I know that scars,
Are not always the ones we share and show.
Story time is everything we feared,
And every piece of you I’ll love.
I’m not afraid of the skeletons that have gotten dusty,
Or the way memories creep up like feelings
-so long are bad days.
It is how past lovers held the spaces between fingers,
traced the very same lines across your back
the visits to old places, sharing the same air where love once took its breath
and the faces splattered across walls,
pieces of things, remnants, pasts.
I should be scared,
I should turn back,
But this is me saying-
two feet firmly planted
roots grow here, love grows here.
Show me it all
I’m here for a while,
I’ve got time.
All these pieces- I will love you for.
This is where our love will inhale,
And on the exhale
I’m still here