i'll come over at 3:27 am when you call me
your voice shaking
and i'll know you've been crying
even though you'll try to camouflage it
with a smile.
i'll drink with you and then
i'll let you bury your face in my thighs
and scream, scream it all out
and even though you'll dig your fingers into my flesh
until i'm bruised,
i'll still run mine through your hair,
i'll hold on to you as you scream,
scream until you're blue,
until your knuckles are white
and your lips are numb --
and the rain will be pouring,
thunder and lightning tearing the sky apart,
and nothing will hurt as much as
seeing you broken.
i will hold your hand
as you dive into morpheus's realm
and watch your purple eyelids flutter:
you are a ship and i'm the one supposed to gather the wreckage.
i'll wake up at 8, stiff and worn out,
and i'll let you sleep, and i'll go buy eggs and milk
because you will have, as always, forgotten,
and i'll come back soaked to the skin;
you'll push back a wet lock, then give me a dry shirt;
we'll make pancakes and omlette
and your hand
will wrap around my hand
and your face
will fit in the crevice of my neck
and darling, we won't be okay -
but sunrises after storms are always the brightest -
and we'll be as close as can be.
