It's so ironic
That now we cannot touch
I fear you most

I can feel you slipping
Between my fingers
Sand
Water
Running down
I want you here
Solid
Warm
Familiar, following me
To rooftops and beaches
Keeping me from harm.

I try to envision
The way it felt
Safe
Welcome
I cannot recreate it.

Only your rage
Sharp
Words
And mistrust
You could hurt me
As long as
You are not here
To convince me otherwise.

When you next come
I will not tell you
To go away

But what once was
Will never be the same
This is what they call
Change and I know
It is only my
Stupid
Worries
But I cannot help myself
When you are away.