He slept inside himself
On the edge of my bed
For months
One arm dangling like a marionette
Without a handler
Between the floor and the wall
And one slung over my ribs
I could feel his chest rising and falling
Against my soft mattress
Sometimes he'd catch the wind
As it swept through the window
And he'd turn over
Or pull away temporarily
But he wouldn't wake
Not fully
Sometimes his eyes would shift
Chaotically beneath his eyelids
I'd wonder desperately what he was seeing
Then he'd pull me in tight
Still soundly sleeping
He had scars on his forearms
Strong as they were,
They made him vulnerable
He smelled like incense
He tasted like chemicals
And I loved him
Every breath
Every word
Every movement
Every inch
I counted his "I'm sorry"s
Multiplied them by his "I miss you"s
And added them to his "I love you"s
Then I said,
I have just enough reasons to hold on
Even when he slips away
Look at all these reasons
For him to stay
I was gone when he woke that day
He left a note on my pillow that said
"Better off without me"
Signed with X's and O's
I don't think he'll ever understand
Why that's so untrue