At night; love loses the fight.
The night cannot protect you from the truth.
There never seems to be an end to the tears.
Or the sheer terror pinning me to my mattress.
My body recognises I am exposed to venom.
It’s innocent efforts make me cry.
It forces me into sickness, my body the only one to look out for me
Protecting me, spilling anything foreign from my body
That could make me feel such unbearable discomfort.
I am terrified that I can’t see you.
There could be blades or tyres or water
And I can’t see it. And I can’t save you.
I want so badly to save you,
But your tone is accustory, your voice unfamiliar
And I don’t know how to pull a stranger from the ledge
Without it seeming like sabotage.
On cold asphalt at 2am I sob
And when someone comes to complete their charity case
I am shocked by my shaking words.
“He is the only one that loves me.
I cannot lose the only person who has ever loved me.”
But am I delusional to see reciprocation?
Because while I gasp at the slightest scrape
And scream at every one of his blows
He can only remind my breathless lungs
Of their selfishness.
I am in agonising pain every second that you are hurting.
And yes my lungs are selfish when they breathe, whispering;
“I wish someone loved me that much.”