Whatever You Will Give Me

I will take whatever
you will give me,
the scrape of your voice
along the cold of my bones
in the morning, the shiver
of your lips against mine
as I part myself open,
your name imprinted
on my tongue.
For it is you who finds me
when no one else can,
alone between the shadow
and the soul,
mouth dirty, fingers blackened
from the heat of your heart
and my final gasp an echo
as you take me over the edge.
I have long accepted
the price of your weight
upon my soul.

Search for You

I will search for you,
my fingers clawing gently
on the underside of my ribs
as I attempt to open my body,
slice clean along the side of my lungs,
bite down till I bruise
the pink of my lips a deep purple,
staining my heart outward
with each beat and breath of my body,
measuring each second of my existence
as something alive.
I need you with me, on me,
carved deep along the marrow
in my bones, the beat
of a dull heart cupped
within my hands, blood spattered
up the length of my arms,
your name forever engraved across my body.
But this is fine,
even when nobody can see you,
as I become unravelled
at the seams, fingers digging,
nails clawing to open
the soft container of your body,
as if by this form of love
I could meld you to me.
As if I could ever find the will
to let you go.