Sledgehammer

Desiring you is such a dangerous thing for my already delicate heart.
But in an instant I go from a quiet content, an inner peace with the patience I must keep; to feeling the explosion of a fragile, fine, glass vase under the weight and force of a sledgehammer.

My ideas and beliefs on myself scattered in infinite directions - some a faint arrogance in the belief that I can run to bigger and better things. Other thoughts welcome the suffering I will endure in the wake of the fact that you and I will never be.

I can try drown myself in music, writing songs that might one day catch your ear. I could draw, paint or sculpt objects of infinite beauty to erase your incredible smile that inspires fireworks to explode in my chest each instant I bear witness to it. Even conquering the world is possible with all the sleepless nights that are sure to follow

But nothing can be poured into the void left by the sledgehammer to lighten your absence. Nothing except the touch of your soft, winter lips on mine; where they belong