s o a r i n g;

“I love you,” 

the heavy weight,
like an atlas on his shoulders
lifted off, flew away
as the words left his mouth;

words he’d not spoken before
except in a dark, broken den
where he’d seeked solace;

words he’d whispered into a glass of whiskey,
that failed to quiet his mind.

“I love you,” he’d sobbed, then.

“I love you,” he smiles now.

and his heart feels light;

the smile that greets him,
the glint in blue-grey eyes,
the press of soft lips against his;

He is soaring.

He is home.

----------------

i follow back :)