Conscious Chaos

I've had a crazy week thus far and am ready for some down time this weekend!

Like a broken compass,
I don't know whether you're pushing me away
or pulling me towards.You seemed so alive then,
so soft and so bright,
yet quiet inside of you.
I never knew how to be
still like that.
I wrote your words on my arms,
never too clean to get a tad dirty.
The words are pungent and broken on my tummy,
but they are alive.
Alive, because sometimes you speak to me this way,
with touches and tattoos,
in whispers and shouts,
eager for your words I tug my hair out,
and I remember that you must have been
broken once, too.
I'm close to okay, though.
Almost fixed,
I've glued me back
with little thanks to you.
There are few cracks in sight
and then just this
seamless whisper
of your hands
on my shoulders
pushing me or pulling me
in every direction
of you.