He said that he thought I was depressed, Then followed up with a question,
Asked if I was.
I responded with the truth,
I didn't know
But I knew I was sad.
My sleep patterns frightened him,
He was drowning in self blame,
And it was his fault.
He made us suffer through this.
It wasn't worth it.
He wasn't worth it.
But
I
didn't
care.
It felt like it could be worth it,
Even though he made me feel
Worthless.
He told me he loved me,
like it was the answer.
"That's not a solution, doesn't fix anything"
I countered.
I heard his breath hitch,
in his tear thickened throat.
"It should be." was his response,
with red rimmed brown black eyes
and a shrug of almost man shoulders.
I shrugged too,
bit my polish chipped thumb nail
I didn't know which words to say,
because if it was
we wouldn't
be this way.
