PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Lay your head on my chest  

and let your heartbeat sync with mine.  

Feel this drum inside my breast—  

a pulse that moves in perfect time.  

Every tempo I’ve survived  

was carved through storms and city heat.  

All the rhythms that arrived  

now rise for you in every beat.  

Girl… lay your head.

Don’t turn from scars of foreign fights;  

they’re proof of battles I’ve endured.  

These lines that cross my days and nights  

are just the marks of swinging swords.  

The stories no one ever kept,  

my little anvil, forged in flame—  

the nights I bled, the tears I wept,  

are quiet now, and known by name.  

On my chest, girl…

Lay your head on my chest  

and let the whispers lose their sting—  

the doubts that tried to test your steps,  

the voices questioning everything.  

These arms are built to hold you tight  

as moonlight settles in the room,  

leaving you breathless in the night  

like shooting stars that split the gloom.  

And spring inside you starts to rise,  

a gentle tune, a softer breath—  

a warmth that opens up your skies  

and melts the cold of what was left.  

I know your shoulders ache and bend  

from truths you carried on your own,  

the weight you hid from friend to friend,  

the burdens borne but never shown.  

But right here, none of that remains—  

just quiet hearts that beat as one,  

two souls that walked through storms and rains  

and finally found their place undone.  

I can’t promise storms won’t test,  

or nights won’t put us to the quest—  

but through it all, you’ll have my chest.  

So lay your head… and let it rest.