Treasure Chest

Standing across from you, fire in my fists, blinded by your voice.  You’re piercing right through me, I am the wall. Your words like sea salt to scar tissued insecurities and I’m raw. Hollowed at my core, I want to reach for you, dig my fingers deep in to the cavern of your chest, tearing you open, find the treasure in your ribs. I could build a home inside you, climbing the steps of your bones, a stairway to the heaven that is your slowed heart. The murmurs of broken romance. Palpitate, exhilarate, you scream. I search for the warmth in you and I paw at your arteries, feeling for your history. Veins like nooses where I could sleep inside you; instead I swing from the branches of your nerve endings and sling shot right through you until you grab a hold of me. Shaking me, bringing me to your senses; sound and sight. Bringing me to my knees, holding the me you see, disappearing in the parts you don’t. 


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