I’m writing back to back pieces.
i’m trying to glue her shattered soul that had shattered into pieces.
i wanna be where she lays her head at night and where she can claim that her peace is.
or rather with whom her peace lives.
so we can say peace to our heavy loads, and wash our sins away on the shores of the Sargassum sandy beaches.
so on the next laundry day, our dirty laundry has less pieces.

I long for long nights of rubbing her feet and alfredo pasta dinners.
3am became our worst enemy during the seasonal depression visits.
i have a vision of better days, but i am stilling learning how to grip em. 
she’s the missing piece to completing my my life’s vivid description. 
and on days like this, the smallest dips, can feel like the deepest of fissures. 
how can i fill a kaiadas level low? if the top doesn't even feel like it’s it touching distance. 

im growing distant from stagnant and stuck. 
she’s distant from her home amongst heaven’s courts and the stars.
an empyrean angel, with her guard up.
i wanna love her until her love is soft, and she sees me as the best reflections of the heavenly father.

we not too far from high school summer mentalities. 
but it’s different this time because i got you, you got me.
we’ve grown so much, our love could never catch a casualty.
i’ll pick you up or tumble with you, i got your back to face reality.
 in every problem there is a poem itching to be written, is what i believe.
I wear my heart out on the page until the ink plays a metaphor for my pain leaving me. 
this is for the only piece of my peace that’s unwavering.