The human heart
in search of a hand
that will hold it when the ache starts,
sharp bursts that break apart
our cold exteriors, tearing a hole
through calm atmospheres.
Craving someone else just to be here
to hear us shatter
and understand our cracks in the pavement,
how we fall through the gaps out of fear
of losing something worth saving for later.
Clinging onto the bruises that might matter
as if they are clues mapped out on skin.
Wearing ourselves thin,
instinct starving by the second,
till we can’t tell where the road ends
and the souls of our feet begin.