…latches onto the nearest passing thought like a leech on fickle flesh. it won’t pry or peel, but remains stuck like clothing left on skin burnt in a house fire. …strays like a lone wolf, instead, it opens the door and walks through the hallway seeking a vulnerable partner. …introduces itself early in the morning when the dew is fresh and your stomach awakens to feel a tornado turning your insides around while you lay under heavy covers. …ebbs and flows as a heavy tide, as you walk to work, as you sip your hot coffee, or as you sit and listen to the birds alive. then at night like an electric storm, my heart and chest cannot calm the stormy winds that reflect my inability to control this debilitating feeling stripping all my hunger and carving away at my comfort.
…will be the death of me
being my soulmate that
haunts in the most
Reilly Cook lives in Southern Maryland where she writes and spends her time outdoors with horses and friends. She graduated with a B.A. in English at St. Mary's College of Maryland where she fostered strong relationships with literature and poetry.