When you were feeding me pesticides, you asked if you were poison.
No, of course not.
How can you be poison when the fruit is so sweet?
When your control over me spread like cancer, you asked if you were a disease.
No, of course not.
There is nothing alarming about you, nothing to widen my eyes at with worry.
When I choked on my tears, you asked if you were a flood ready to drown us both.
No, of course not.
You are nothing like the unyielding water, scratching at the rock until it was as smooth as them.
When your short fuse scotched me, you asked if you were a fire destined to burn down the world.
No, of course not.
You are warm and safe, but not dangerous-
I mouthed silently at night.
When I was lying on the floor, barely clinging to consciousness, you asked if you were death.
No, of course not.
Death is merciful.
Death is inescapable.
When I was dreaming of you, you asked again if you are all of those horrible things.
Yes.
Yes you were.
