I want to be the healer of your shattered heart
hand it over, place it in the palms of my hands that will not part.
allow me to put it back together with my gentle touch
glue it with my laughter, tenderness, and endless ability to clutch
I crave to rupture your lips of silence and inhale the pain from every tragic lesion
fill my lungs until they lead me to the dreadful reasons
Do not fear my explosive passion or constant need to make you feel alive.
DROWN! your frightful need for help to stay afloat, move, and survive
The habitualness of where you dwell is not a place to sleep, be, or need.
Take my hand and let me lead
guide you to a place where, the sun is warm, the moon is smiling, and the stars are bright.
I want to be the strength behind your fight.
©Elizabeth Zsamboki
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