I lay my finger in your wounds
Soft and hollow
Edges trying to crawl over the cliff to form something new
I dig holes with small gravels called nails
I imagine things
Sometimes
I imagine things
I dig holes in your wounds, rub flaky sea salt in the deepest parts
And you ache sometimes and you cry and I cry with you and then again
I imagine things
Like a future less harsh
I lay my fingers in your wound the big one
The gaping hole
I rest them there
Feel the pulse pumping through the layers of my epidermis up to my nerves
A small crack in my lower back
I feel your life
I feel your past
I feel our future
I lay my fingers on your wounds, caress them
I let them know it’s okay
That they’re here
That you’re here
That I’m here
That I can see them
And you don’t have to disappear
Sometimes I’m afraid of all that empty space
I imagine things
I imagine things, sometimes
Inside holes
Inside emptiness
I fill in the gaps
Like a brain does
But my heart is the one afraid like a child in the dark
I see monsters in the shadows
I befriend them, try to
I lay my fingers in your wounds and my heart and I fill in the gaps with mine
Like two Swiss cheese melted into one big fat crust
(ily)