Footprints On Your Heart
I am running again, over familiar soils,
Still climbing in order to reach
A far away hill.
I don't know how it looks,
Or how my journey will be,
All I know is the present,
All that I think and see.
But my seeing is different now,
No longer abstracted,
It's become focused within time,
Fixed on an altitude
And the route that is mine.
Sometimes it's hard, when you don't lay with me,
The loneliness reaches in again,
Coiling round my head,
Movement too sudden to suppress.
I think of you then,
In my far away bunk,
A single island in a washed out sea.
Missing the warm invasion of your touch,
That soft, amiable face,
So good at keeping me up.
That slow wide smile and eyes,
Convincing me I was good enough.
I crave the cradle of your shoulder,
And the smooth soil of your skin
I long for your gentle tenderness,
But am too afraid to let myself in.
Your heart is a shrine,
That I never want to desecrate,
Your eyes a captured beauty,
I can't bear to see disintegrate-
So I'm leaving you now,
Before my heels leave footprints on your heart
Before I break something so joyous from the start,
I will leave.
And though I sometimes wonder,
Why it is that such a thing could be so-
That I could love you so much,
That you could become my home.
If I was right?
And will I ever know?
I cannot break you anymore my love,
I fear I have to go.
And I love you far beyond, any petty poetry,
I love you far beyond any words that come to me,
But I don't know what I'm doing,
I don't know who I am,
I'm breaking slightly, I don't want us both to break,
Though I'm craving your hand
I will continue.
As always, carry on.
I won't leave footprints on your heart my love,
I hope you don't hold me there too long.
Eleanor Best's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Footprints On Your Heart by Eleanor Best )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- I burped after I wrote this, Jena Crowe
- REMOVE Jefferson Carter, Richard Thripp
- Damned if I do damned if you don't, Mark Heathcote
- Black Gloves, Joseph Narusiewicz
- Even though late, hasmukh amathalal
- What a curtain Bisbee has, Amy Michelle Mosier
- The Shockers, Sandra Feldman
- Rather than talking to walls, Amy Michelle Mosier
- July 11,1991, Amy Michelle Mosier
- Like a sparkling Roman candle, Amy Michelle Mosier