Raising Sails

Wed, 08/07/2013 - 17:36 -- tekight



I’d give away all wealth to be tortured with kindness,

My body a tomb for your style.

I’d steal away my health in the midst of your presence,

If it granted me a glimpse of your smile.

It’s made me a sweet, shaking strum of a chord,

A fear that’s been told it can roam.

And each time I look at the gravel and mourn,

You’ve never cast that first stone.

I’m at home.



Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741