My Yearning

is a God

 

My yearning is a god.

Omnipresent and a part of faith

Deep enough to feel holy.

 

There are relics

And dead strands of hair

In the corners of my being

That i cannot dispose

In a landfill far away from home.

 

Faces of the past are blurred 

Into hues of bittersweet sentiment

Where days pass 

Through our fingers

Like shards of glass

Perforating our skin

With a gentle kiss.

 

I crush stars and memories

Under the weight of my heavy heart.

I choke on the remains 

Of stardust and melancholy

The fill my lungs 

In a dreary landscape

Where there is no land.

 

Daggers are melting through my skin,

The blood is crimson poetry

And an elegy to the stars above.