Game

game

My mind races at the thought of you, my body shivers and swoons over you. you feel like the final boss of life’s story mode, the end goal of soul, that fills the hole in my chest, that was left behind, debris from my mother’s decline. You make my hands feel like the sun shining on a beautiful humid summer day, you make my feet feel light, like the words that follow, you make my body feel hollow. you feel like prancing in the backyard, not a care in the world, like the bounds of my mother, the sounds of above. You make my mind race, my heart chase, the feeling of you, my intentions true, you make my body blue, to exude the bliss of autumn’s kiss, like the leaves that fall, so do I, like the trees that breathe, the fresh air of peace, you complete the feat of me, from the depths of my curls to the ends of my feet, you make my soul and heart, feel complete. 

You’ve beaten the high score, the number on the floor compared to the limit of the sky, that makes me shy. You feel like the nervousness of long-awaited victories, where I defeat my woes, you feel like the sword of life, how I defeat my foes. You feel like the game of pickup, when I take my shot, and turn around because the ball feels hot, like the suns rays reflecting off my skin, the brown of life, to where I’m akin, to all the beauty’s of the earth, but you top them all, because you fulfill my worth. You feel like the pigskin that graces my hands, to the sprint to the invisible endzone, where it meets its end, like the breeze of winter, the sky and moon, where I forget my problems, and where I swoon. 

You feel like a late night, where the rain collapses on my roof, and the drops slide and collide on my window, like the loud cracks of thunder, like the carefree blunder of youthful disposition. you parallel my mother, you allow me to feel safe, and you don’t leave me wondering, what if? 

You feel like the field of grass, the piles of wheat, like my life’s restarted and a clean white sheet, you feel like the warmth of night, the security of obscurity, where all my insecurities cease to exist, you feel like the red of the sky, when the sun sets and makes me feel so high, you feel like the gentleness of spring, when the flowers sing, the blossoming of love instead of strife, you feel like the bed of my soul, where I can rest my head to bask in the sheet of life, you feel like the morning wind, the light that spins, around my head as I start my day. 

You feel like the flash of light from the photo booth, like the peace and tranquility of summers truth, like the ends of the earth from sea to sea, like the image of happiness, of you and me. To me, you aren’t a game, but you call my name, and when I hear your voice, it’s not the same, as everyone else that I wish would leave, you feel special to me and I want you to know, that nothing on this planet would allow me to show, how I truly feel about you so I write this poem, to let you know that I’ll always be home.

copyright © micah hill 2024