Monday, 6 June 2016

Holding Pattern

Around and around,
Tip toeing around.
A few words
bitter and cold,
then some comfort
enough that we're sold.
But I miss the hold
I miss us bold
and not shy
Not shy to share a laugh
or comfort a cry.
Sweet potion, from our lips, one moment
venom, the next.
I fly around
waiting to land.
We were inseparable,
like the sea and the sand.
I miss your hand,
soft, slightly tanned.
We're floating around
wandering alone,
because you're harder to reach out to now,
what with that wall for a cloud,
and we could drop down any moment,
fall straight out of this high,
but it is the landing I fear
I fear we won't land nigh
What we have now
is a holding pattern at best
for a move
for someone to send a signal
for our souls to find rest
for that last shoe to drop
and then it'll all stop.
You will arrive
and I will depart
and our holding pattern
will break apart
but silently
we will implode
and the noise will eat us up inside
reminding us of how we let go
how we gave up.
If ever we crash, love
if ever we break
in another world
beside you, I wish to wake.
I pray we stop spinning in circles
and end this wretched chase
I tire, I long for your embrace
Until then, I hope you hold
and never let go
I hope we find a safe landing,
some love and more.

No comments:

Post a Comment