When I touch your head
I feel scorpions moving
trapped inside your skull
wanting to get out
of the cage
so they can reach me.
When the time comes again,
you shut yourself
in your isolation room.
Is this your love,
meant to protect me
from falling
into a black hole
with you?
You were numbing
your biting thoughts
I, asking for coherence
pretended I did not see
how my rationality hurt you.
In your veins, snakes crawl
looking for a way out
to satisfy their hunger.
You’re fighting
on two fronts
with them and with me
a calm day
becomes a field full of holes.
You, pushing
the walls away
standing between
euphoria and despair.
I try to give you
three-quarters of my life.
How much of it is my selfish greed,
how much is loving compassion
for your own pain?