between the lines

I can't tell our story anymore
can't feel the place you're supposed
to be alive inside me and you're not

the only truth I have left are prayers
pushing up like wild flowers in
the shape of your absence pleading
you will come back

I'm giving you me, the only way I know
to fight for you, to keep the un-tread
patch of earth where you belong fresh
nourished for your return

I’m wrestling the vast distance between how I
most want to love you and what my hands
can bend to hold as they give way to the
gravity of where you are

I’m gathering all the red marrow sprouting a
promise holy enough for you to someday
call home again