"This week,you’ve got a heart like the hillswhen a storm rolls in.Even though last week,it was..."

“This week,

you’ve got a heart like the hills

when a storm rolls in.

Even though last week,

it was different:

desert grass beneath

a white and unforgiving sun.

And you know it’s bad.

Because when pain like that

turns to an ache like howling wind,

that’s when you know it’s unpacked its bags

and settled in.

And you—you were so in love.

You thought she’d changed you.

You thought she’d found a heavy soul

strapped to your shoulders

and lifted it free—

that she’d unlaced you a heartbeat at a time

until you could breathe again.

You felt so light in her hands that she

had to be made of something stronger.

She had to.

And you poured all of yourself at her feet.

You thought you were supposed to.

The frightening thing about men

with nothing to believe in,

is that when they find something,

their hearts snap shut like bear traps.

They take no heed of broken bones.

And when she buckled

it’s not that you didn’t forgive her—

it’s that you didn’t even know.

Didn’t your mother ever tell you

not to love like that?

Didn’t she teach you not to take shelter

in other people’s bones?

Count to ten.

Lay your hands flat on the table.

You don’t have to live and love like this:

all hands—all teeth—no skin.

You are more than a forest fire

trapped in a pair of lungs.

And she deserved better than that

all consuming love;

she deserved better than loving

down the barrel of a smoking

loaded gun.”

-

Ashe Vernon, Monsoon Season from Belly of the Beast (via steelhidingsilk)

You can get my book here, through Words Dance Publishing!

(via latenightcornerstore)