simple healing, perfect timing

you're not a magic potion i brew
in a sippy cup, in a melting pot, in a kettle of liquid dreams and fantasies
i can't just cover open wounds with heart-patterned band-aids
and expect the blood to stay beneath
and expect the pain to linger underneath until it simmers down
to a dull ache, then nothingness

how can i be healed by you
when i cannot even feel you

there is a moment in time i believe
that the gap between my fears and your promises
comes to close, like ripped threads being respun
into one whole tapestry of grace

but that moment isn't now
and i remain waiting, longing for your repairs
desperate for a day of heaven
with nothing in my arsenal but the courage of a sunflower
and the expectation of recurring waves on the shore

slowly, my belief is dwindling

A/N: It's been so long since I've published poetry on this site again. Good to be back.