Fingers dance with shadows on the ceiling and

faint light filtering through the gaps between them take away the night’s sharper edges

and I fill the quiet with lilting piano that begins to lull…


But anxiety coils in my chest,

a troublingly comforting weight pressing into my lungs

tugging at the droplets forming at the corner of my eyes without real reason

wrapping itself around me in a reminder of just who I am though  I had briefly forgotten.


The outstretched hand above me feels a separate entity, chasing shadows still, playing while I watch, while I think too much:

About wonderland and Cheshire cats and madmen with hats just like mine,

About Guillotines and dead priests and  metal that binds.


And I want to tell you all my secrets,

here in almost-darkness where we’ve hidden ourselves from the world-

here where my other hand lays between us with fingers intertwined with yours-

here where you have invaded my chest and taken hold-



Here where like a moth to a flame, like Icarus to the sun, I am drawn to you and I want nothing more than to be devoured,


But I’ve lost all my words.


Lost all my words like I’ve lost track of time here,

like I’ve lost track of how afraid I should probably be

of feeling this safe-

of feeling this sane-

of how quickly returned anxiety leaves


Of forgetting my heart is a rock that bleeds because

I love…

I need…

I want…

I ache…

I feel.

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