Home Poem by Emma Cookie

Home

Rating: 5.0


It's funny how inspiration becomes you when you stare into the mirror
You see everything
You see that unfading crease in you left cheek that dimples.
You watch yourself swallow, that shift in your throat becoming the shift in your reality.
You see everything.
But I see you differently,
I cannot see your inner demons
Cannot pull them from you like the moon wrenches the ocean tides from the shore.
Cannot tear them from you, cannot rip them from your precious body.
Because I want you back.
The you I know is buried in the abyss of this hole you've dug yourself into,
The you I hold so dearly to my heart.
Your fragile soul ardently buried
In the crevice of my neck.
Your feeble nails, stumble to find the trench of my spine
As you peel your lips back, desperate to suckle the hope from my lungs,
And I will deliver and endow until my limbs are stifled, muffled, weak.
Until I dip my toes too far into the river of belief
Until my credulous bones break and my restrained flesh bleeds the blood of souls crying, festering in their own minds.
But you will still be home to me,
Though I may not recognize the street
Inside yourself you wander, looking for me as I pull you closer.
The mirror will never cloud your vision enough to obscure my love.
Do you still see me?

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