The Old Bruises

[nonnichan]

I don't want to turn out my lamplight
Left with remnant glow.
I can't remember it well
Every time it leaves...

Didn't I feel different?
Didn't the words once said mean a little more?
I tried to self-sooth to protect,
But thoughts came unbidden.
Longing leaped from my chest and knuckles
with a soul of its own winding my shaking core...

tight.

I reach for the stuffed animal in the corner
and squeeze
squeeze
squeeze...
I whisper, and I breathe, and I whimper.
If I love it enough, perhaps it will reciprocate.
I might give this lifeless thing
The hope I need.
I press
and press
and press
Him closer to me.
Can he hear me?

Or am I alone in this, drifting quietly in this soft room
sighing. Holding.
Wanting...a memory of childhood, a harmless thing with no free will...

He is warm from my touch, and for a moment he is real.

I touch, my skin swelling, and I can see once more in the dark...

I miss you.
I regret.
I go on.