I fold myself like a bow,
Back arching away from bed,
Arms chasing you as you pull back,
winter snaps against my skin
Like cold compress over a bruise,
Stinging,
And I don't remember if I keen,
Plead under my breath
For you to stay,
I don't remember if I try to hurt you
Or hurt myself,
Barely acknowledged feelings,
Pulling at me easily,
In that moment I yearn
To be someone whose strings
You hold surely between your fingers...
©eos
