pour your heart out

my hands are laced in your hair,
glimmering golden in the sunlight,
like an intricate crown on your head.
                                                    you're not the king of much,
                                                    but i've never been a princess;
                                                    i was always, always the queen.

and i don't know how this works,
but my heart's leapt out through
my throat, a silly little effervescent
thing and flown into you, humming,
content across your skin and yet,
it's crashed down, down, d
                                         o
                                            w
                                               n
curling like a small sun in my instep,
heavy as concrete, holding me to this
moment for eternity, making sure i
don't float up && away either.
                                              
                                                   i was the woman with no spaces in
                                                   her head and in my chest and skin
                                                   which stretched over her just a little
                                                   too tightly. my fingers and bones and
                                                   the gaps inbetween my atoms have all
                                                   been filled up by my loneliness and fear
                                                   and heartache and shame and if it's all
                                                   going to spill out now, it might as well be
                                                   in your hands; i've always really really
                                                   liked them.

kissing you is unlike anything it's
like trapping a storm in a glass jam jar,
like speaking in a forgotten language,
and it all just pours out of me and you
build brick houses in the spaces left
behind so that you'll always feel like
home to me.