Hearts, Breaths & Syllables

Let us not die before we live.

Let us not fear pain that sometimes bridles passion.

The girths of our hearts are emblazoned with scars that will never heal but grow us.

We are tenacious in our weakness in a world that has loved us little and yet we have given our very souls to exist in it.

I am afraid to lose grip of your hand when you push me away. I never want to let go. I never want to have to let go.

Let me stay, now that I have found you.

You are the brightness of my every moment.

You have my every breath in a glass jar like fireflies that light up a crisp-cold room on an autumn evening.

Cup my face in your rough hands and tell me that I will never walk alone.

I will believe every syllable.

Frank Malaba © 2015


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