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dukkhaPoems
I am a flickering lightbulb, sputtering and spitting, A candle burned to the last of its wick. You are sentient light. You are Beautiful. When I tell you this, you turn your head away. “I’m a piece of **** you say. But I don’t understand how you can’t see the perfection that you are; Your eyes, your face, your body. I don’t understand. I wish I could make you see, But I have long since accepted that I cannot. I think about you a lot. A lot. And I don’t know if you think about me. I want to help you, I want to help you, but no amount of love will make you well. I know this, but claws and fangs tear at my insides when I watch you destroy yourself night after night after night after night. There must be an end to this pattern. I want to hold you until it does. And kiss you, and stroke you arms and face and hair. I hope you think about me. Not in passing, not as an afterthought, and I hope this wish isn’t selfish. I want to hold you until it passes. to be allowed to "be there" in any capacity I can. I want to help, I'm screaming. I want to help but no amount of love will make you well.
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Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
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I am a flickering lightbulb, sputtering and spitting, A candle burned to the last of its wick. You are sentient light. You are Beautiful. When I tell you this, you turn your head away. “I’m a piece of **** you say. But I don’t understand how you can’t see the perfection that you are; Your eyes, your face, your body. I don’t understand. I wish I could make you see, But I have long since accepted that I cannot. I think about you a lot. A lot. And I don’t know if you think about me. I want to help you, I want to help you, but no amount of love will make you well. I know this, but claws and fangs tear at my insides when I watch you destroy yourself night after night after night after night. There must be an end to this pattern. I want to hold you until it does. And kiss you, and stroke you arms and face and hair. I hope you think about me. Not in passing, not as an afterthought, and I hope this wish isn’t selfish. I want to hold you until it passes. to be allowed to "be there" in any capacity I can. I want to help, I'm screaming. I want to help but no amount of love will make you well.
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dukkha
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
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