"Don't let me fall"
I promised I wouldn’t,
but the feeling of your bones
beneath my hands
sent shivers through my body.
I have never been afraid of ghosts,
but the idea that yours very well may exist
when the sun goes down
is the scariest thing I’ve ever had to face.
Monsters are not demons with poisoned claws and evil grins.
They are the shadows that creep their way in,
the glossy pills in bottles who’s names we can't pronounce.
Your head bobs as though you’re agreeing
to questions we are asking.
And I wonder if we are asking
because we know you can only say yes,
so we ask the wrong questions
so our light doesn’t run out.
Your hands shake
and my hands shake
and we are shaking beneath this collapsing ceiling
with doves scattered about
looking for ways to be beautiful.
But we are out of crumbs
and they have all flown home.
I won’t bother screaming,
because there will be stares.
I won’t bother crying because they've run dry.
I will cradle you in the very arms you created
and beg the stars to let you stay,
beg the moon to fill you with clean air,
beg the clouds to wash away these scars,
beg the wind to make you cold so you will ask for warmth.
I will hold you until we can greet the sun,
with boney bodies
and breaking souls,
whispering "fight, fight, fight.”
