when my security
shatters
into sand scattered on the concrete

when my face
burns, melts
into the many little bones
holding it together

when my resolve
scampers down the walk
its leash finally tattered enough to be broken

when my eyes view yours
as they would migraines,
blinking away every fantasy of us together for fear of
pain or nausea or both

when I find myself laboring to
smile, nod, speak
as though the receptors telling me to
obey and interact have lost touch
with their synapses

when you ask me if I'm okay
and I'm struggling under your hand
as you hold me under the surface of my insecurities

and I just say, "Yes."