the slow art of breathing bitter

I'll Be There

I remember fat tears streaming down your cheeks

When I pulled you close to me.

The dark times when all your demons used to come back—

You said not to leave you alone.

But all that's now churning beneath the spinning bottle.

Close your eyes for a while,

The sun's setting over the little blind city.

It's going to be night soon, but trust me, dear—

You'll be safer,

You'll be warmer here. Forge a poem,

listen to this ringing lullaby, and fall asleep.

Soon the day will be over,

and the demons will be gone forever.

Everything's alight.

Red flames are engulfing our room; 

Thick smoke around us like mascara.

Everyone's running and screaming.

Your Papa's car is broken at the end of the street—

his hand's hanging mid-air, auric red.

Your favorite color, but not again.

Just close your eyes and breathe in.

Your lungs are filled with smoky oxygen;

Don't be afraid. I'm here by your side, always.

We may be apart; we may not meet ever,

There may be the briefest second we want this to end and start.

Just know I'll be there,

Even when the day's over,

even if you forget your pills or water.

Just know even if this gets over, I'll be right by your side.

It's just that sometimes, our stories get buried under the snow;

Only in some rare moments, when the sun disappears 

and your shirt's stained in sorrow do the raindrops shower love.