Last night, I climbed
over your body
searching for my Everest
but unwilling to reach its summit.
And as my crampons gripped
your rocky surface,
feeling left my limbs.
Was this really love
or lack of oxygen?
If love, then when to begin
down the pathway
of your kiss?
I shivered with insecurity,
gripped exposed terrain
tucked my head in a crevasse,
a climber harnessed till the end.
Afraid to let go.
Afraid of the fall.
Afraid of being smothered.
Afraid of getting lost.
Destined to let another
failed expedition
with bare-boned cost
turn a star-eyed dreamer
into a shooting comet,
burnt out bits of dust
romanticized as luck.
© 2022 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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