The Overlander

I am lost in the tips of trees
toes balanced on the apex of pine and oak
And I’m left thinking of you
late at night when I’m alone.

I can pretend I’m not allergic to this
to the things I feel.
Pretending to be invincible
until it falls away.

All that’s left is the pain over you
standing on the tips of trees
Needles in my heels and such
desperate disbelief, to run far.

The light on the horizon is you.
It has always been.
When you walk to the floor
When you offer a hand.

Glee comes softer now
tempered with fear
So gentled with lashings of
such sudden realisation.

I am so very broken.
Over this, I am broken.