"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.”