There I was.
Resting.
You remember, don't you?
Me; nuzzled into the crook of your neck,
my hands gripping at your shirt...
you fancied it, you know.
The embrace was warm,
and our heartbeats may have synchronized
in hopes of lulling us to sleep.
You remember all of this,
I'm certain,
but there are some things
you don't.
At approximately five or so minutes
before I buried my swollen, dark, brown eyes
into your chest,
I was choking back tears.
Every time I hugged you,
it dulled my depression just enough
for me to pretend my heart
didn't live like someone was having
a boxing match with both atriums and the aorta;
no, it was a searing pain that dulled
in moments like these,
replaced with a suffocating tension.
I knew as soon as I left you,
I would be shaking,
on the ground in panic
or digging my nails into the utmost layers
of my body;
you didn't know that this moment we shared
was more about me
masking how much pain I regularly endured,
and about using you to soothe my psyche enough
to pretend I was alright.
when you dream of painful things, you must write, write, write!
