If I could help

If I could calm your mind,

thread silence through the static of your thoughts,

I’d sit beside the storm inside your skull

and hum until the thunder learned to hush.

Take the weight off your shoulders—

let me carry the atlas of your worries,

each continent of doubt a feather in my palms,

until your spine forgets the curve of burden.

I will be there,

a lantern in the fog of midnight doubts,

my hand an anchor in the tide of chaos,

whispering: breathe, beloved, you are held.