Dichotomy

That person

Everyone knows that person.
The one they talk to late at night.

That one person who no matter what is going on... Makes sure to see if you're alright.

Their company is not always a constant, and when it's not is when you need them the most...

Tonight is a night of recollection and guilt...

I've failed my person and my petals wilt.

My person is hopeful, pushing me above the waves.

For truth, most days I just want to cave...

In to the fact that I'm lonely and scared.

Cave into the feeling of dread when I'm here.

Cave into the tears that burn behind my eyes.

Cave into the burn in my chest when they spit the words that bite.

My person has a person, and that being isn't me.

I've become a memory.
A bittersweet thing.

Even if they don't speak knowing that they're there... Knowing that on the other line they've fallen asleep with me too.

Knowing I'm not alone... Despite my heart being beaten black and blue.