A Lover's Migration Poem by Mark Heathcote

my shoulders were blotting paper for her tears
Naively I dealt with all her bad nightmares.
Every day her sanity was shaken.
Her grip on reality wasn't reawaken
I was there attentively listening
And it was all just - so exhilarating:
I, being the thread that held two seams together.
She wanted us to marry, you know? - Whosoever?
But like birds in the sky, I can't stay, settled
I yearn to fly and eventually be resettled.
When the sun shines no more when seams, are torn
I want to stay but have to leave love forlorn.