Nyx

What am I but a skeleton
who homes an anxious knock,
tucking her in between
soiled sheets and twisting
my bony fingers in restlessness
until I hear them whimper
with that brittle crack.

What are you but an excuse
to postpone this destiny that I've
planned from start to finish-
circling inside the compass I've
carved into my manible,
exhausted from repeating
"I want to find my place"
from dusty vocal chords.

In your presence I discovered
the skin I'd been longing for
my entire exsistance,
like a lost thought buzzing
just above your brow,
I had never left you-

I simply went to find myself.