You come to me at night
Crying and slick with the cold sweat of a new nightmare.
I hold you in my arms as best I can;
Your head pressed in the space just below my collarbone,
My chin resting in the tangled mess of your bed-head.
But it's too real and too perfect to be anything but fiction
And when you lift your head to pull away
Your cheeks and eyes have sunken,
The promise of a skeleton's smile dances on your thinned lips.
My bones become ice,
As I wait patiently and petrified
To wake up to empty sheets and cold floors
Even as you stare at me with somber puppy eyes,
Still ringed with red despite the glowing shadows that are becoming your face


k.f.