Poetry

Hiraeth.

You never held home in your heart,
For home was always in the warmth of your arms
You could never be my home,
I only thought you were
Because I wanted you to be
So much that,
Even if it meant for me to explode and burn
Those four walls with you, in your arms
Was home
My home indeed.

My hireath,
For I see “rambler” inked on your bone
And yet,
I lay here, knowing we can’t be each other’s security
Our love is like fire and stars, shooting stars
Burning, leaving nothing behind
But I’ll still let you be,
For you hold the sparkle in your eyes,
Screaming out for a new expedition
And I beg you, with just a look “just one more time?”

You’ve got a string tied around my heart,
An anchor to my feet
A chain to my soul
And then, it hit me
You were never meant to last
I wanted you to be here forever, to lay with me

We are made of candles and vodka, rushed kisses and goodbyes
But yet, I let you be my guilty pleasure
Orgasmic to taste
And when I beg you one more time “just one last ride?”
You smile like it’s the last
But we both know isn’t

Home is in your hands,
Home is where you are,
My hiraeth.