They used to crawl
across the ceiling
and
drop
over her when
she slept
to make razor
slices
in her hips
and by morning
they
were gone
But they aren't slaves
to sunlight
anymore
so they never
have to leave
They stick to her
bones
and breathe her
lungs
to
haunt her
always

I took your wrist and had a look, you told me about the unusual art you did,
The use of natural dark red paint flowing down, dripping onto your clothes,
In your eyes I saw your emotions, though they were locked up, tied with a chain and bolted away,
I saw them, and I asked you "Why can't you do a different art?"

You looked right into my eyes with a sad smile and said,
"My dear friend, it's not easy to live. Certain things just make you feel worthless,
and like a bunch of wastage, sometimes, it's better trying to feel something else instead of that,
for words hurt like nothing else does."

I added a texture of cotton on top of your art,
You looked at me silently, and in your eyes, I could see someone hurt and broken, screaming for help,
and at that very moment, I decided, I would never let you be alone,
I took you into my arms, and hugged you tight, making soothing gestures on your back as the silent hug turned into something deeper,
and the sobs racked through your body, but not once did I let go,
and at that very moment, I just knew,
You couldn't turn to anyone, that's the reason you did your unusual art.