But Houston, What if youre the problem?

hesitant hands that have been taught to free themselves by being emptied into others,

the difference i find in you is the surrender my chest serves does not leave me hollow

ghosts with no home to haunt find their way back to me,

see,

in creaking caverns and buried edges,

there is little here to interrupt the echoes of the things that make them pace

love has been the only antidote for the poison in my bloodline,

and when my own wanes,

you are one to stoke the flames

and draw hope from hopelessness like a long strand on a fraying sense of desire

your laughter is oxygen, and i vow to do everything i can to keep us both breathing

know that my insecurity is a black dress the woman wears,

a pitiful mourner of this body still living and yet she hopes,

for someone who could feel the vulnerability in waking up next to me.

but how could it be the same, if they were never brought to tears?

then i trace the trails yours leave behind on cheeks that have weathered much worse than our rain,

before bringing thumb to wash them away, replaced by the smell of clean sheets and gentler sounds.

i listen for a stir in your soul, knowing i hadnt ever felt mine before you sang to it.

it is the reminder that tomorrow, the sun will wake and give up to the earth another chance

it is the relief of filling my lungs,