Poetry/ Inspiration

The Baggage I Carry I always thought my heart was big enough to hold the sun, the moon and the stars, but that was just the universe talking, that my mind was sharp enough to penetrate andromeda and omega, but that was just an illusion stronger than Houdini’s, I thought my ego could never be shattered, sliced or perforated by the baggage I carry from living and loving, or that my soul ripped and torn could ever be repaired, that words of poetry could be like lavender linen, rosemary and sage, essential oils to bring me glimmers of truth that burn like a fire and soothe like a balm. I never thought I could miss something as lovely as the brink of dawn or the setting of the sun. But here I am. Somewhere between andromeda, omega, and the absence of you.