Only yesterday, you stood before me.
You watched me a while,
           you saved me last night you say.
We begin talking about the thunderstorms
you saved me last night you say,
          you’re repeating yourself again.
That was yesterday I say,
but you keep saying you saved me last night
           studying me intently your eyes fill;
a storm drain overflowing with rain,
the tidal wave in your stomach kept rising;
            I would have drowned without you there-
you’d think I was the equivalent of coming
up for air.
           You’re more than the oxygen I breathe
you say, coming closer to me.
You’re my sun.
            I want to tell you I’m afraid of my
darkness. But I can’t say it out loud to you.
You see dearest, I can’t take my limbs apart like you
            I’ve forgotten how to sew myself
back together. All my emotions, are held
in a nest between rib bones; rib bones broken
            in the fight endured trying to get
the world to love me. Yours, is a heart awaiting
for the blooming of flowers, which follow a winter
           of freezing now pining to thaw.
Tears surge down your cheeks –
they’re forming pools of salt water
           between your *******.
Only yesterday, you stood before me.
You taught me to dance, your elegant body
           telling stories.
Night was drawing closer, and out the window
I can see another storm is approaching.
           I was a child born in a thunderstorm,
you say. The first night we met, you told me
you are the eye of all my storms. The calm centre
            keeping me grounded. You saved me
last night you say again.
No baby I say, you save yourself every time.
You’re not the monster
           you think yourself to be.

© Sia Jane