I just want to hold her.
Sit with her through the night, have her fall asleep in my arms.
Watch her drift off with no more pain.
The world finally off of her shoulders.

I wish I could be the one to extract the black ink that runs in her veins.
I wish she’d look at me the way I look at her,
consumed by beauty.
I wish she’d let me make her happy.

But she doesn’t look at me that way.
And she never will.