So long now I’ve heard your calling,
a distant whisper in the cavern of my mind,
buried deep beneath the person
I turned out to be,
a tender voice struggling to breathe,
and when required I reach out to keep you alive
because I refuse to let you go,
the impetus of my creativity,
inspiring to write that which would remain unsaid,
please forgive me,
suppressed emotion lent strength in harsh winds
but where I’m headed stifling won’t suffice,
and I can feel my resolve fading,
each little part slowly replaced by sadness
as time sweeps away our foundation,
and I’m scared to look at the rubble that’s left,
of that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach
when I know for certain that without action
I too will be swept away,
keep my heart in your hands,
as you always have and always will,
where it’s safe from my own neglect,
so that I may return for it one day
when I’ve grown enough to accept
the ache and worry that comes
with the responsibility of owning it.