When the world was dark I held your hand.
We sat comfortably in what light I had left.
Yours had gone out again, or you had put it out I wasn\'t sure.
But I was always there.
When you had your fill of what little I had to offer you made your way back into the darkness.
Knowing all to well what waited for you there.
I kept your space warm, it was only a matter of time.
You would come back and you would need a hand to hold.
I waited.
You came.
You left.
And My light grew dimmer each time.
I did this knowing what was to come.
Knowing that my light was the only thing that kept you.
Knowing that at the end of each encounter the cuts would be a little bit deeper
the wounds a little harder to heal.
But I kept hope, I am foolish in this I know.
I am somewhat of a kamikaze optimist often throwing my heart like a grenade at things that are sure to kill me.
I rattle off reasons and explanations in my head like scripture.
My sermon, your life.
All of the evidence of you being misunderstood and lost.
That you can be saved, That I can save you.
But again these words
these thoughts,
Are the pin pulled grenade.
The lit wick.
Leaving pieces of me everywhere but
Here.
-B-